


The Plan

by ezyds



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Devil May Cry 4, comic included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezyds/pseuds/ezyds
Summary: A little experimental theory about Credo meeting Dante before the game. What if they tried to speed things up by kidnapping Dante before opting to lure him to Fortuna.
Relationships: Credo/Dante (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, DS here. Decided to dump this old thing from Gdoc here. This fic has been translated into Chinese here: http://bit.ly/39hGMxQ

"The son of Sparda has been apprehended."

Credo looked up from his desk. There was a nervous gleam in the messenger’s eyes. Fear of aggravating the Supreme General when he had specifically instructed not to be disturbed? At least his men knew how to show him respect, unlike the blubbering idiot calling himself scientist. Agnus had been hounding him about catching Dante for their ingenious plan. If that man wasn’t allergic to sunlight - a personal theory that was fast becoming fact - Agnus would camp outside his office door only to ask him about Dante every time he enters and exits his office. Placating Dante, the direct descendant of the legendary Dark Knight was - admittedly - nearly an impossible task yet it was the only option they were left with. Tracking Dante wasn’t cakewalk, let alone overpowering him. He had seen the half-devil performed firsthand during their few brief encounters. Forget asking him to serve their cause, Credo didn’t think he would believe a word they said. To Dante, they were just an obsessive cult worshipping his father’s power.

Credo snorted at what he learnt about their target. Dante’s reputation was impressive, right to the point how he always ended every job he took with a large bill for property damage.

In other words, Dante was a reckless force of destruction.

Credo realised the soldier was waiting for his order. “At ease.” The man relaxed. “Where is he now?”

"Currently we have him contained in the detention centre." The soldier fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable with the next half of his report. "The doctor wants him transferred to the lab."

"He’s not going anywhere." How dare Agnus assume authority over his men! He was THE Supreme General; aside from Sanctus, no one could order his men around. How did he know about Dante’s capture anyway? News traveled too fast for his liking. He also didn’t appreciate not being the first to know. Credo stood abruptly, causing the soldier to jump at the displeased scowl on his face. “If he wants anything, he must come to me first.”

"Yes, sir!"

Credo didn’t like the idea of Agnus poking at the devil hunter. Dante wasn’t some lab rat for his experiments. He grabbed his sword on his way out, heard the soldier stumbled behind him to keep up with his pace. Credo stormed through the hallways like a bat out of hell, various thoughts raced in his mind. For one, despite his seemingly careless attitude, Dante was an extremely skilled warrior. He _would_ retaliate if he was given a reason to. Sanctus had told them specifically not to offend the son of Sparda - he was royalty, not prisoner - so Credo felt it was his duty to maintain a good relation with the devil hunter. They had already stretched it so far by detaining him without his consent.

He also wanted to ensure that Dante didn’t get the idea of making his destructive reputation known by wrecking Fortuna for their mistakes.

The detention centre was a small room located in the left wing of the Order’s branch office. It wasn’t exactly designed to contain a demon, let alone a powerful half-devil such as Dante. To be honest, the headquarters in Fortuna was better-equipped for this purpose. Then again, that was where Agnus was. Credo rubbed his temple; he and his men had been stationed in this small facility for two months now, tracking the elusive half-devil’s every move. Dante slipped out of their grasp just as they were about to corner him. If Credo didn’t know any better, the devil hunter seemed to enjoy their little game of cat and mouse. With every step taking him near the destination, Credo had a foreboding feeling about it all. He turned sharply into the end corner and was met with a group of soldiers idling just outside the door. They scrambled to recompose at the sight of the general.

"What is this? Coffee shop? Back to your stations!" Credo watched them hurriedly left the place with a displeased frown; he caught a few hushed whispers about the devil hunter as they passed by. Ever since they managed to capture Dante, the men had been in unsettled state. They were both afraid and awed by the devil hunter. The son of their saviour; in the flesh. "You," the messenger jumped, nervous that he was the only one who wasn’t dismissed, "Stay on guard. Do not let anyone enter." Credo pushed into the stark white room and heard the door clicked shut behind him. His sight was locked on the still form on the bed. Keeping his fingers in touch with the hilt of his sword offered little assurance as he slowly ventured deeper, closer to the bed. There was no movement from the devil hunter. They had him sedated with a dosage effective enough to bring down a demon five times his size when lesser dosage still had the half-devil kicking and punching like a rabid dog.

Dante’s breathing was shallow and lengthy; he was in deep sleep. Credo noted the lack of coat and weapons. Without his weapons, the devil hunter looked almost harmless. He knew better though. Dante had thinned out his squad like they were rag dolls; they weren’t a match to him. Yes, Dante was powerful - he was the son of their saviour - yet it scratched the pride Credo had in his elites. They were his best. After him and Nero.

Nero…

Credo felt a throbbing headache coming whenever he thought of that boy. It wasn’t that Nero wasn’t good; no, he was really good. Perhaps even better than most of the elite squad - not that Credo would admit it out loud - the boy had promises. Nero would make a great knight if only he could get rid of that attitude of his. Even as a member of the Holy Knights, Credo knew Nero didn’t care for the Order and every brash action he made always put the general in a hot seat. He was tired of dealing with reports of the boy’s misconduct. Perhaps because Nero lived with him made the boy less intimidated of him. One of these days Credo needed to get things through his head about how his actions affect everyone around him. Around Credo.

A groan caused Credo to snap out of his reverie. Dante. He looked over the devil hunter anxiously. Dante was waking up. He had to be ready. The general took a small, calculative step back, out of Dante’s reach in case he tried to grab him in retaliation. With the amount of drug still in his system, Credo doubted it but underestimating the Son of Sparda would be downright foolish. From the safe distance, Credo watched how Dante’s face scrunched up slightly as if he couldn’t open his eyes. He did eventually, his long, dark lashes fluttered open, revealing lazy blue eyes that immediately came into focus to take his new surroundings. “…The hell is this dump?”

"You are awake." Credo tried his best to sound hospitable as possible, his grip on the hilt tightening when those eyes darted to his face.

"You again. Tch, should’ve known you guys aren’t beyond dirty tricks."

Credo’s left eye twitched at the insult but he refused to bite. “We’re not your enemy. We didn’t hope it would come to this either. You left us no choice.” He thought trying to reason with the devil hunter as soon as possible would be best.

"So…kidnapping me is one of your ways of asking for help? Funny logic you have there." The general didn’t like the cheerful sarcasm in his voice. Chances of Dante cooperating peacefully seemed bleak. Sweat rolled down his neck, hidden by the collar of his pristine white uniform. He couldn’t afford to fail this task.

"I apologise for resorting to such measure but you were not ready to listen." The general sighed softly, his voice lowering. "Demons are breaking into our city. We need your help to stop them." Credo frowned when he heard a soft chuckle.

"You really are as blunt as can be. A real boy scout." Dante smirked, still drowsy from the drug. "Do you honestly believe what’s coming out of your pretty mouth?"

Credo frowned deeper. “What are you implying?”

"Implying? I’m not implying anything, it’s the truth. I’ve been in this business probably long before you learnt to pick a sword.” Credo squeezed the hilt of his sword when Dante’s eyes swept over the weapon. “I’d know if there’ll be a demonic outbreak, they’d send me invitations to the party.” The devil hunter smirked smugly at Credo’s reddening face.

"Then they clearly lost yours during delivery." While Credo knew his attitude wasn’t helping his case, the general felt satisfaction when Dante’s expression changed at his dry response. It was hard to keep a level head when the other person couldn’t return the favour. "You can say what you want when it’s not your home."

Dante was silent. Maybe ‘home’ was the keyword; Credo saw the longing in his eyes. Silence stretched within the room as they exchange looks, tension grew. Finally Dante broke the silence with a tired sigh, “Could just hire me, you know? Why the hassle?”

"You didn’t name your price."

"You can’t afford me." Credo blinked when he saw the flirty smile on the hunter’s face. Clearing his throat, the general pretended to find something interesting to look at across the room. He didn’t understand what the devil hunter wanted. Maybe the room was a bit too small and empty but it was still better than the other rooms they currently had.

"My apologies for the lack of extravagance. This facility is only temporary, I assure you we can cater to your needs better when we return." Dante’s pale eyes were wide with amusement before he began to laugh. Hard. Credo was taken aback; his mind reeled to find any logical explanation for the odd behaviour. Maybe the drug was too potent. Dante had lost his mind.

"Oh, you’re just too precious!" Dante wheezed as his humour died. "Now I like you even more."

Credo felt his face burn. Why did Dante find it amusing? He felt lost for not understanding the joke. “I don’t understand. If you want monetary payment, we can-“

"How about we improvise?" Dante’s pale blue eyes were twinkling mischievously. "Since you want me to cooperate, convince me that you’re not after stupid mojo." Credo couldn’t open his mouth when the devil hunter pushed himself to sit up. The general reached for his sword in alarm - he would fight if needed to - but Dante lifted his hands up in surrender. "Hey relax. Watching you swing that cute ass around while lying down makes me feel kinda queasy. I just want something to drink." He paused to regard the auburn-haired man with a ghost of smirk on his lips. “I _can_ have a drink, can’t I, boy scout?”

“My name is Credo, and yes, you _may_.” Credo gritted his teeth to stop himself from snarling at the arrogant half-devil. He spied a bottle of water on a nearby table and threw it to Dante, still wary about getting too close. The devil hunter easily caught the bottle and uncapped it. Credo found himself watching the man gulping down the refreshing clear liquid like a starving man; a trail of moisture rolling down his bobbing Adam’s apple before it disappeared under his shirt’s collar. Dante didn’t even pause to consider if the water was poisoned; maybe he knew they wouldn’t hurt him or he was just confident he could overcome anything thrown his way. The general frowned at the man’s arrogance and looked up when he heard a satisfied sigh from the devil hunter.

“Whew, that hits the spot. Now if only there’s pizza…” Dante placed the empty bottle beside him before he turned to the general. “So, run it over me again. You need my help with demon attack?”

"Yes. Does this mean you’ll cooperate?" Credo frowned when the devil hunter wagged a finger teasingly at him.

"Who says I’m cooperating?"

"But-!"

"I asked if you need my help. I still don’t know if I can trust you lot not to be dicks." Dante raised his arms with a grin to placate Credo’s beginning protests. "All I’m saying is; I need proof."

"Proof?" Dante was toying with him; the devil hunter enjoyed making his life miserable. Truly, there should be a code in dealing with difficult people. The general struggled to calm his breathing, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. "Very well. You are free to leave this room." From how those playful, pale blue eyes gleamed with approval, he deduced it was a step into the right direction. "On the condition that you don’t run away." The devil hunter looked amused at this.

"I won’t. Promise." Dante seemed to brighten like a kid getting his favourite toy. "Where are my weapons?"

"We have your weapons in safe-keeping." Credo admitted he took pleasure seeing the man’s face fall. "We’re aware you can be destructive without them. Keeping them is more of a leverage to ensure you won’t flee."

The devil hunter huffed with a resigned slump. “Fine. They better be well-cared for or I’m going to have your ass for it.” Credo did his best not to flinch when Dante hopped off the bed with nonchalant ease. The remnants of the drug had cleared out of his system. “So, what say you we discuss this problem of yours elsewhere? Maybe over lunch? Or is it dinner?” The general ignored the playful tone, knowing the man was fishing for information.

"We will talk more in my office." He turned on his heels to reach for the door handle, throwing a calculative look at the devil hunter as he opened the door. "I can ask lunch to be delivered, if you like."

* * *

It was too late to regret his decision. Credo could only lament his own choice to invite the devil hunter into his office. It wasn’t the matter of confidentiality - he had the insight to hide the important documents away before confronting the half-devil - as much as trying to gain and maintain Dante’s short or lack of attention span. Standing by his desk, Credo couldn’t help but feel invisible when the half-devil shamelessly perused the general’s office area and - to his growing exasperation - the small, adjacent living quarters. The only relief he had was the fact that Dante didn’t seem to mind the cramped space of their discussion room.

"So you live here? For two months?" Credo could hear amazement in his question. He tried not to dwell on it. 

"Yes." He pretended to go through the files in his filing cabinet as an excuse to not look at the devil hunter.

"Really? Isn’t it a little cramped in here?"

Credo bit back his default response, “Yes, I do sleep here while I’m chasing you around the city.” He pulled a thick folder from one of the cabinets and turned around to address the devil hunter, “If you would sit-“

"What a beauty." Dante picked up a small picture frame from his desk. "Girlfriend of yours?"

Credo snatched the picture frame with a low snarl. “That’s none of your concern.”

The half-devil raised his arms with a light chuckle, “Hey, I’d be jumpy too if my girl’s that busty-‘

Struggling to rein his anger, the auburn-haired man growled dangerously. “She is my _sister_.”

"Whoa, could’ve fooled me." At least the devil hunter looked apologetic. "Sorry, sorry. Take it as a compliment; your sister’s quite a looker." Dante tilted his head, his lips curled with mischief glint in his eyes. "Now that I really look at you, you’re not so bad on the eyes either."

That was highly unexpected. As his rage fled, Credo felt his face turned slack. “…What?” He stared at the half-devil, expecting Dante to burst out laughing at his own jokes. He waited for a full three minutes, the laugh never came. The way the hunter’s pale blue eyes - unusually intense - didn’t leave his face started to unnerve him. After what felt like an eternity, Credo forcibly cleared his throat and broke eye contact to lay the folder on the desk. He gave the brown folder a firm tap. “This is the full report on the outbreak; you will find everything you need to know in here.”

Sharp, pale eyebrow rose in question as pale blue eyes darted at the offered folder. “‘Everything’?” Even as Dante spoke, the half-devil was already making himself comfortable in one of the seats by his desk.

"Everything we’ve gathered so far," attested the auburn-haired man as he joined Dante at the desk, relaxing when they returned to a more familiar ground. He chose to abandon his recent unease to focus on the mission at hand. As the devil hunter read the folder, he provided the basics, "We came from an island called Fortuna; it’s a small community founded by your father, so we are no strangers to demonic activities. In fact, we pride ourselves in fighting demons, just like you, and your father." Credo ignored Dante’s incredulous scoff. "Approximately three months ago, demonic activity on the island increased at an alarming rate. They seemed to appear out of nowhere and they weren’t like the demons we used to find on the island."

"Why do you say so?"

Credo shrugged unconsciously, brows drawn in thought. “I can’t exactly explain. They feel raw, like a wound that has festered and decayed in the open. We had our researchers study them and not much can be found.” The general saw the usual playful mood faded as the half-devil perused deeper into the file.

"Hmm…interesting," Dante mused in mild interest as he sifted through the photos and reports.

Credo rested his elbows on the hard wood and laced his fingers together. “Have you encountered them before?”

"I’ve seen variations of some but a lot of them are uglier. Can’t say much until I get to see them for myself though," concluded the half-devil before he set the folder away and leaned back to rest his feet on top of the desk with a small smirk. "Are they tough to kill?”

The general frowned at his teasing smirk. “Not if you know how.” He shoved the man’s booted feet off his desk, frowning in displeasure when he found flakes of dirt left on the otherwise clean surface.

"So where do I come in?" Unfazed, Dante just grinned at the scowling man.

Credo looked at the discarded folder; a photo peeked out of the file. He could recite everything written in the folder because he was there. “They are fairly easy to kill, but what they lack in strength, they compensate with numbers. During the last three months, we have constantly worked on thinning their population but their numbers keep growing. We are running out of resources and we’ve lost so many good men.” The faces of the dead still haunted him to this day that he dreaded waking up every morning to another death. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply to clear his head. “We believe something is the cause of these demons invading the island overnight. We just don’t know what yet.” When he opened his eyes, he found Dante watching him with an odd expression. The general raised an eyebrow in question but the half-devil didn’t respond. Starting to feel a little unnerved, Credo was almost glad for a gentle rap at the door. “That would be your lunch. Enter.”

A knight came in bearing a silver tray filled with food. The smell of freshly-baked bread, juicy slab of grilled meat, and aromatic herbs in the thick gravy was enough to tease a hungry man. Credo spied two sets of meal in the tray. He couldn’t remember when he last had a decent meal; he was always at his desk and keeping his men in line that he was only able to scarf hastily procured sandwiches and energy bars. To subdue his hunger, the intervals would be filled with copious consumption of caffeine. The general knew he had lost some weight; his uniform was a bit looser and he had to tighten his belts, _all of them_. Kyrie would make a huge fuss over his diet when he returns.

After the messenger exited, Credo pushed the tray towards the devil hunter. Dante quirked a pale eyebrow at him in question. “There’s two sets here. You’re not eating?”

"I’m not hungry." His stomach growled in protest just as he said so.

“‘Not hungry’ my ass. You look like you’re ready to fall apart. C’mon, a soldier needs his strength.” Dante pushed a plate towards him. “You don’t want me to have all the fun, do you?”

Credo scoffed lightly. “There is nothing remotely enjoyable about any of this.” Not wanting to prolong the debate, he accepted the offer and sipped the provided apple juice. The drink quenched his thirst but his stomach complained about the sour juice. He vaguely lamented why it wasn’t coffee. Dante’s amused chuckle stopped him from guzzling his drink.

"Hey, slow down. You’ll finish your drink before even starting on your food."

Credo swallowed with a flush. “Right.” Peering into the glass, he had drunk nearly half the content. The juice was warm - that was odd; usually juice was served cold-

His blood froze.

"Man, you’re really tense. Relax and have a bite. It’s nice to have a company for lunch." Dante was cutting through his steak when Credo smacked his hands away, sending plates, glasses, and tray crashing to the floor. The clangs of silver tray and shattering of glass broke the calmness in the small room.

Surprise and distrust lit the devil hunter’s face but Credo paid him no mind, the sensation of hot and cold racking his body was far more distracting. The food was drugged; he should have noticed that he didn’t recognise the soldier who brought in the food. That scheming Agnus planned to snatch Dante while the hunter was under his care? Not if he could do something about it. “Your guns. Top drawer, second from the left in the grey cabinet.” Cold sweat pricked his skin as Dante’s eyes narrowed at his strained instruction. “Your sword isn’t with me so I can’t do anything about it, sorry.” His sight was blurring and his ears were dulling but from the way Dante looked at the door, he wasn’t imagining the footsteps running towards his quarters. Biting back a soft curse, Credo struggled to get a firm grip on his sword as his guest retrieved his guns. “They drugged the meal. I didn’t…” He didn’t betray Dante; he needed the half-devil to know that. “You must understand. It’s that…that slimy…” His consciousness was fading and his body was getting heavier.

The door burst open with a loud bang just as the floor rushed to his face and everything darkened into blissful silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karma isn’t so bad once you accept it.

_Is it night time?_

Ever since waking up, all Credo could see was inky darkness. He was lying on something soft and warm – a bed, he decided. The mattress was soft, a much–needed relief for his tired limbs. He wondered what time it was. He better get back to sleep; he had to get up early for work. Closing his eyes, Credo was more than ready to resume his sleep before something niggled persistently at the back of his mind.

He didn't remember going to bed.

Credo stared into the darkness, confused. That was odd. Why couldn't he remember retiring to bed? It took less than a second for his nerves to go on high alert.

_Something is wrong._

Battling the urge to panic, Credo forcefully pushed through the haze of confusion to recollect his bearings. The air was cool and dry. The room smelled of bleach; it reminded him of hospitals. Drowning the unpleasant experiences he had with said establishments, Credo calmly pieced together what he could remember. He was talking with Dante in his office. After months of chasing the elusive devil hunter, the other man was finally willing to listen. Despite their earlier altercations, Dante seemed to trust him. They were discussing their plans before a knight – no, an impostor brought them those drugged meals. He unknowingly consumed the drug but was able to stop Dante from ingesting any. Credo tried to remember what happened afterward but his memories of the exact moment were hazy at best, muddled by the drug, most likely. I won't forget this insult, Agnus. Did the devil hunter escape? He secretly hoped so, just for the satisfaction of spiting the lunatic.

Credo caught a soft shuffling near his head. Someone else was there. How long had he been unconscious? He tried to get up but his limbs refused to cooperate. If they planned to subdue Dante, the drug must be highly potent. Letting out a frustrated sound from the back of his throat, the auburn–haired man realised he could only wait for the other person to come closer. He was still numb from the drug. Even his tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

A pair of heavy footsteps approached his bed. Credo felt a sense of dread when he was assaulted with the eye–watering scent of bleach and rust. His chest grew cold; he knew exactly who his company was and he didn't want the person to come any closer. A blinding ring of white light poured on him and Credo squeezed his eyes shut with a strangled hiss of pain when the sudden brightness burnt his eyes. Struggling to see through the shadows of his lashes, Credo felt blood drained from his face when he realised he had been stripped of his clothes; his arms and legs were spread out and secured to the bed frame via metal cuffs. He tried to move his arms but all he could do was twitch a few fingers.

Credo froze when a large hand – clad in surgical glove – stretched out into the light. It hovered over his bare chest, barely ghosting over his collarbone. He didn't want the hand to touch him. Desperate to escape, he renewed his struggles, rattling the cuffs against the bed frame. The hand paused in its track before retreating into the shadows. Credo heard sharp clinks of metal as if someone was picking through a stack of metal pins. When the hand returned, the general paled at the item it brandished. Eyes wide, Credo opened his mouth when the hand pressed the scalpel against his skin; the silver blade glinted in the harsh light.

"NO!" Credo bolted up, barely realising he was screaming. His heart was pounding in his ears, deafening his own harsh breathing. Blinking the moisture in his eyes, Credo found that he was alone, and he was no longer in the dark room.

It was a dream.

Still shaken, the auburn–haired man quickly patted himself, feeling the soft fabric of his undershirt and pants against bare hands. He was undressed, but thankfully not completely. Whoever undressed him had mostly done so to ensure his comfort and spare his uniform of wrinkles. Credo spied his discarded garments being neatly folded and placed on a chair nearby, along with his sword. He sagged in relief, burying his face in his hands as his pulse slowed into a calmer rate. He hadn't dream of that room in a long time. It was always the same; the darkness, the maniacal grin, and the ominous voice. Credo pinched the bridge of his nose; the voice was so clear in his head as if it was recently whispered into his ear.

_'All will be well, my boy.'_

The general shuddered involuntarily as he remembered the emptiness of those words. Five years ago he was naive; he had believed everything. Credo did everything he was told to without questions nor complaints. As he climbed the ranks of the Order, the auburn–haired general could see the line of right and wrong had blurred. Murder, extortion, deceit – he didn't agree to it but the Order had purpose, and to fulfill that purpose, he had turned a blind eye to everything twisted going around the Order. Although he grew up in Fortuna, Credo wasn't a pious man, yet that didn't make him blind to morale and justice. He promised himself that once the Order succeeded and the world was free of evil, he would dedicate his life to right the wrongs he did.

Feeling more collected, Credo scanned his surroundings with clearer eyes. He seemed to be in a wooden cabin; the room wasn't too big yet the minimal decor left it spacious enough. Aside from the bed he was occupying, the only other furniture in the room was a small table, two chairs, a tall cabinet, and a couch. There was a stone fireplace across the bed that possibly doubled as a stove. It didn't look like it had been used recently. He could see two doors located across each other; the bathroom and the exit, respectively. A few windows were slightly open, allowing sunlight and soft breeze into the small cabin. Sucking a deep breath, he inhaled the cool, fresh air into his lungs. The air carried the smell of damp soil and pine forest. Was there water nearby? He could use some; his throat was so dry as if he had just swallowed a mouthful of sand. He could hear the faint sound of water in the distance.

Credo slid his legs down the bed and paused to listen if there was anyone around. Other than the chirp of birds and the soft rustle of leaves, he couldn’t hear anything moving near the cabin. If there were demons around, he would fare better with his sword within reach. After he was sure nothing would suddenly jump at him from the shadows, Credo carefully climbed out of the bed; his naked toes sunk into the plush fur rug as he made his way to retrieve his clothes. He couldn't afford to stay idle. Whoever left him there was probably long gone. The general was grateful he didn't wake up in Agnus's lab. Who knew what that madman would do if he knew Credo fell for his cheap trick.

_Probably annoy me to death with his gloating._

Credo scoffed at the thought, pulling his boots on. His amusement vanished when he heard the rustle of leaves and footsteps outside the cabin. Grabbing his sword, the general pressed himself flush against the wall as the door was unlocked from outside. When the door swung open, he jumped out of his hiding and thrust his sword at the newcomer's jugular–

"Whoa, easy! You could hurt someone with that thing."

Credo blinked, his stance relaxed. "...Dante?"

"Were you expecting someone else?" The devil hunter grinned at him as he stepped into the cabin. Credo noticed the man was carrying two large grocery bags in his arms. "Finally you're awake. I hope you're hungry because I got us some food. And don't worry, they're drug free." Credo felt his face heated up when Dante added the last remark with a teasing wink. He watched the half–devil deposited his purchase on the small table, feeling a little lost. Why was Dante there? What was happening?

"Don't just stand there. Get over here."

Credo jumped when he felt gloved fingers clasped around his wrist that he almost dropped his sword. Dante dragged him towards the table and pushed him into a chair. "Sit. Eat." Credo stared at the monstrous pie on the table; it was so big the box almost covered the small table. He spied a bottled water amongst the goods and eagerly took one to quench his thirst. Water had never tasted so good. Wiping his lips, he watched the half–devil sat across him. The man pulled a large slice of pie from the opened box before taking a big bite. “Mmm this is good.” Credo swallowed; while the food may not look too appetising, the smell was enough to remind him of his hunger. However, he refused to eat until he had answers.

"Why are you here?” The general pressed his palms on his knees anxiously. “What happened?"

The half–devil swallowed the food in his mouth. “What do you remember?”

Credo furrowed his brows as he recalled his last memories. “The drugged food.”

“Ah,” Dante nodded distractedly, licking his fingers before he picked another slice of the greasy pie. “You passed out just as your little happy squad burst through the door. Believe me; they didn’t look too happy at the picture. I really didn’t want to mow down those poor assholes again, so to make sure I got out safe and sound, I took you with me.”

Credo stared at the other male. “So, in other words, you kidnapped me.”

The half–devil gave him a smile that looked too innocent to be real. “Looks like it, doesn’t it? Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

How could the man behave so nonchalant about the whole event? While he was glad Dante opted for a more peaceful way out than hurting his men, the general didn’t like being used as leverage. He could already picture Agnus harping about the whole ordeal to Sanctus. How would he face His Holiness then? Letting out a noise of frustration from the back of his throat, Credo waved a hand in the air as he moved to the next topic, figuring he wouldn't get anywhere worrying about that now, “And what of this place? Where are we?”

“Somewhere no one can find. Pretty cosy, huh? Found the place a while back, it seems the previous owner abandoned it,” the devil hunter replied with a toothy grin when the general only scowled at his dodgy response. "Hey, c’mon, you’ve been chasing me around for two months now. I can’t catch a break at my office with you guys breathing down my neck so don’t blame me for keeping this location hidden.”

So it was true, the reason they sometimes lost track of the devil hunter was because Dante had a hideout they didn’t know about. “Then why did you bring me here? Aren’t you afraid that I’ll expose this location?”

Dante chuckled. “Feel free to, if you can.”

Credo tapped a finger on his knee, his frown deepened as the meaning sunk in. “Does this mean I’m not allowed to leave?”

"I was hoping you'd stick around for a while so we can continue our chat." There was a glint of mischief in his pale eyes when half–devil pursed his lips, his tone teasing, "Are you going to try run away, General?"

Credo's eyes narrowed as the half–devil's grin grew. It was a challenge. He glanced between Dante and the door, calculating the possibility of his success. His fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword; no matter how fast Dante was, he couldn't possibly match a sword that was already drawn, could he? It was a slim chance, but as long as Credo got through that door, he'd be free. Feeling the comforting weight of his sword, he barely gave the devil hunter a warning before he jumped from his chair and made the dash for the door. Credo dug his boots into the floor in a stumbling halt when Dante appeared in front of him. How could he move that fast?

"Out of my way!" When the hunter only smirked at his demand, Credo decided to make use of his sword. He swung and slashed at the other man, growling when Dante easily dodged out of harm. Feeling the devil–hunter behind him, Credo spun on his heels and lunged at the grinning man. He gasped as pain flared in his wrist, sending his sword clattering loudly on the hardwood floor. Credo didn't have the time to recover when Dante's booted feet made hard contact with his chest. The impact forced air out of his lungs and for a moment, Credo felt the odd sensation of free flight before he crashed against the bed frame. Sharp pain exploded behind his eyes and black spots danced into his vision when he crashed head first against the hardwood, forcing a breathless cry from his lips. Credo fought against the pain to push himself up before his arms gave out and he crumpled to the floor. His vision swam and the light hurt his head. The general squeezed his eyes shut when bile threatened to rise up his throat. He struggled to open his eyes when he heard a sharp click above him.

"Sorry, Credo. You're my hostage now."

"Damn...you," the general hissed out bitterly; his ears were numbing and his eyelids grew heavy that the effort to stay awake proved to be too much. He saw Dante's concerned face inched into his vision just as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.  


* * *

  
  
Credo woke up to warmth ghosting over the side of his face. His first instinct was to flinch, but when the contact did nothing but gently caress his skin, he began to relax. The general frowned when the dull throb behind his head started to return, but the touch against his skin gradually dulled the pain. He sighed when the warmth lazily moved to circle over his cheekbone, coaxing the auburn–haired man to slowly open his eyes. The brightness made his eyes water; Credo had to blink a few times before his sight improved.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Whatever calmness he felt upon waking up was rudely destroyed when he saw Dante hovering over his face. His eyes widened when he realised the touch on his cheek was none other than the devil hunter’s fingers. Credo jerked up, ready to jump out of the bed before he realised he couldn’t move. He turned his head so fast that his neck threatened to snap. His wrists and ankles – his feet were bare again – were tied fast to the bed frame with his own belts. Memories of the dark room resurfaced and Credo fought against bile rising behind his throat. The straps were so tight that he could barely turn his wrists. The general struggled; pulling and kicking against the binds as hard as he could until the rickety bed protested loudly at the abuse. It was a miracle the old furniture hadn’t fallen apart yet, given the beating it sustained moments beforehand. When his effort proved useless, the general slumped in defeat, directing his glare at the grinning half–devil hovering beside his bed.

“How’s your head?” The devil hunter had the audacity to appear innocent.

“Undo these binds.”

Dante shook his head. “Nope.”

“I won’t ask again,” Credo growled, balling his hands into fists. “Release me now.”

“Can’t do that. You’re a flight case.” Dante dragged a chair to sit beside the bed, countering his captive’s glare with an innocent smile. “Aw, don’t be so hostile. Don’t you like my company?”

Credo scoffed, "You kidnapped me, attacked me, tied me to the bed, and now you ask me that?"

The half–devil raised his arms in a placating gesture. "Whoa, let’s not get hasty with the finger pointing now! You kidnapped me first, so it's fair game. Attack you? I wasn't the one waving a huge sword around. I was only defending myself." Credo gritted his teeth; he could feel the leather belts digging into his skin the more he tugged at them.

“That doesn’t warrant my current position. I didn’t tie you down like a rabid animal.” Credo flinched when Dante leaned close, he didn’t like how the other man towered over his sprawled form. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable.

“Would you prefer that I drug you instead?” Dante’s lips were still stretched into that lazy grin, but his eyes had adopted a harsh glint. “That’s what you guys do, don’t you? Pretend to be the good guys, saying noble things about fighting for the good of all. In the end, you always show your ugly side.” Credo swallowed; was Dante blaming him for the drugged food?

“So tell me, Credo.” The general barely managed a sound when Dante leaned so close that their breaths mingled. “What is _your_ ugly side?”

Credo could feel perspiration forming on his forehead. There was a deadly threat underlying the half-devil’s tone and he rather not think what would happen if he didn’t straighten things out. “You may not believe my word now but I promise you that I did not order your lunch to be tampered with.” Sweat rolled down his cold skin as those pale – accusing – blue eyes didn’t lessen their intensity. “Everything I've told you in my office is true. We serve the same cause as your father did - the same cause you do now. I will admit our methods may be far from perfect but we achieved what we wanted; your attention. What reason do we have in keeping you sedated? It serves us no purpose to ruin your opinion of us." When Dante didn't seem too convinced, he carefully reasoned, "Dante, if I had planned it, why would I ingest the food myself?” Credo almost bit his tongue remembering how he originally refused to eat. “Furthermore, I stopped you from consuming the tainted meal. I even returned your guns.”

The half-devil rubbed his stubbled chin in contemplation. “Hmm...true. I won’t deny that.” Before the general could breathe out a sigh of relief, Dante took out a silver gun and pressed it under his chin. “I got my babies back.” Credo winced when the cool metal dug into his skin, forcing him to raise his head. He didn’t dare move when Dante pressed on, “So who’s the culprit?”

While he had no qualms throwing Agnus into the fire, Credo worried that it would only make things worse for the Order. He swallowed tightly; he had no other choice. “I don’t know.”

“Now why am I having a hard time believing that? I know you know something. You said so before you passed out.” Credo mentally cursed himself for forgetting that detail. “So you can cut the crap saying you don’t know." The gun dug harder. "If you want me to trust you, then I suggest you get smart, General.”

He racked his brain; gaining Dante's trust was crucial but he couldn't expose Agnus without implicating the Order. The thought that he had to protect the aggravating madman made Credo force his voice through gritted teeth, “For the son of a legendary devil, you underestimate the hatred demons harbour towards your sire. Does it honestly surprise you that his enemies would come for us as well since we too hold his banner?” He pushed forward, forcing the devil hunter to lean back. He took advantage of Dante’s surprise to drive his argument through, “I admit, I have suspicions on who was behind it, but it could be anyone who wants our collaboration to fail. If you fall for such a cheap trick, you're not as smart as I thought.” The devil hunter was silent when he was done. Credo couldn’t tell what was going on in the half-devil’s mind at that moment. After what felt like an eternity of silence and stillness, the gun under his chin was retracted and Credo slowly released the breath he didn’t know he held.

“You’re a fiery one,” Dante commented, twirling the silver gun in his hand before returning it into its holster. “Alright, settle down before you pull something. I had a few shares of dealing with demon fanatics myself so I get what you mean.” Credo pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved yet wary. Dante wasn’t the type to let things go so easily. The half-devil straightened up in his seat, adapting a more relaxed pose as he regarded the bound man with a solemn look. “You can’t give me names because there’s someone you want to protect. I’ll respect that. At least we’re in the same boat; you have a snake in your midst while I’m still suspicious about your little club.”

Credo sighed and laid back; he couldn’t blame Dante for being honest. He didn’t think he could trust his men after what had happened himself. “...You should’ve left me.”

“Why?”

“You just took their leader away. If I still know my men, they will stop at nothing to find me.” Credo raised an eyebrow when he heard Dante chuckled.

"You expect me to save my ass and leave you to the wolves? I thought you knew me, General. I never leave my friends behind.”

Friend? The general the corner or his lips twitched. “I’m afraid I’m not worthy to be held in such high esteem.”

“Don’t put yourself down,” Dante’s voice sounded close again. “You’re not like the other guys. I may not know you for long, but you look pretty honest when you talked about your home, and you looked after me. You have guts and honour, and that’s enough to convince me that you’re worth sticking around for.”

Credo looked away; he didn’t know why his chest warmed. He wasn’t an overly emotional man, his duty allowed him to feel little emotion. Maybe he bumped his head too hard. He could only hope the damage wasn’t permanent. The auburn-haired man scoffed and jiggled his bound wrists with a sarcastic retort, “That was a heartwarming speech. You will have to forgive me for not clapping.” He almost jumped when Dante’s face hovered over him again. The devil hunter needed to learn respecting personal spaces.

“See? I knew you’ll warm up to my charming personality. You can say all you want but you can’t deny the fact that you like me.”

He snorted in exasperation. Dante could be aggravating at times but the man wasn’t hard to like. The half-devil noted his smile and pointed it out.

“That’s a good look on you. You shouldn’t frown too much. You looked so pretty and peaceful while you were sleeping. You even purred when I touched you,” said the man as drew circles in the air with his finger.

Credo sputtered as heat rose to his face at the reminder. “W–what lies! I didn’t–! I–I was unconscious so I wasn’t...enjoying anything!” He had a feeling his attempt to salvage his dignity was for naught when Dante started to laugh. The general could only watch the other man sat hunched in his seat, his platinum hair fell over his eyes as his shoulders quaked in mirth. For a moment, Credo couldn’t find the words to say. He would probably dig a deeper hole for himself if he tried. Best not give the half–devil any reason to use his words against him. Clearing his throat, Credo gathered his wits and coolly asked the devil hunter, “Are you done?”

Dante wheezed between his breaths, “You’re so red! Relax, all I did was touch your cheek. So you can tell your lady friend not to worry.”

The general blinked in confusion. “’Lady friend’?”

“Girlfriend.” The devil hunter paused before a grin stretched on his lips. “Don’t tell me you don’t have one.”

“I don’t.” Credo frowned; what was the man getting at?

“Boyfriend then?”

“Boyfr-“ Credo regretted getting into the conversation. “_NO_. What relevance does my relationship have with anything?”

Dante shrugged, settling backs into his seat and looking at the auburn-haired man with a lazy smirk. “Just making a conversation. Hard to believe someone with your good looks isn’t in a relationship. So, what’s the problem?”

Credo didn’t want to prolong the topic so he ignored the first part of the sentence. His private life was no one else’s business. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Maybe...you can’t get it up?”

He stared at the devil hunter in shock. For a while his jaw refused to work. “_I beg your pardon?_”

“What? You don’t need to be embarrassed, it can happen to the best of us.” Dante pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Well, not to me-”

“I can do it just fine! Now will you drop it?!” If his wrists weren’t bound, Credo would have smacked himself unconscious. At least then he wouldn’t be stuck discussing about his sex life – or lack thereof – with the half-devil. Dante closed their distance much to his dismay and he squirmed under the man’s unrelenting gaze.

“You still didn’t answer my question, Credo.”

The general glared back as he chose his words carefully, “What question?”

“Do you like women or guys?”

His cheeks reddened as he sputtered to form a coherent response. “Stop asking me such questions!”

“Aw, you’re shy.” Dante smirked a little too gleefully. “Does this mean I have a shot?”

Suddenly Credo didn’t feel all too comfortable with Dante being so close. He cursed himself for being too easily flustered. Granted, he was a private man and he could usually steer clear of interactions that might involve his private life. Being tied down to the bed with his captor looming over him, he had nowhere to run. He shaped his face into a deep scowl and glared at the other man to show how displeased he was but Dante was either oblivious of his discomfort or he was having too much fun being an annoying prick. His arm twitched when rough fingers touched on his bound wrist. The chaffed skin was especially sensitive to the touch and Credo bit his lower lip before he could make any noise. Unfortunately his body betrayed him, and Credo was sure he was half-dead from shame when his stomach growled monstrously.

The sound of Dante’s laughter made him want to bury his face. “You still haven’t eaten, have you? You must be starving.” Credo watched the half-devil vacated his seat to grab a tray of food. When he returned, he held the tray low for the general to see. “I don’t know what you like so I got a bit of everything. There’s pizza, corn bread, custard pudding, and some fruits.” Credo looked up when a slice of the greasy pie was shoved under his nose.

“What are you doing?”

The devil hunter waved the slice in front of his face. “What does it look like? I’m feeding you.”

“Untie me and I’ll feed myself.”

“Nice try. Open up.” Credo had no choice but to allow the other man feed him. As soon as the pizza hit his tongue, he almost forgot how to chew. He ate ravenously; he hadn’t eaten a decent meal for weeks. Credo wolfed his food down, ignoring the grease and how they taste. His taste buds were too numb to dissect the rich flavours anyway. Done with the pizza and bread, Credo had just swallowed a mouthful of pudding when Dante let out a light laugh. When he gave the man a questioning look, Dante reached out to run a thumb under his lower lip. “Pudding,” offered the half-devil as he sucked the mess off his thumb. Credo did his best to stop from himself gaping at the other man. Embarrassment flushed over his cheeks and he began to eat slowly, chiding himself for his lack of etiquette. When the pudding was finished, the general reluctantly forgone the fruits, not wanting to embarrass himself further. Dante abandoned his seat to put the empty tray away and Credo just lied there looking at the open window above his bed. The faded green curtain waved lazily in the calm breeze. The shadow was longer; it must be late noon. Credo felt the bed dipped and before he could react, his torso was pulled up and a bottle of orange juice was nudged against his lips. “Drink.” He gave the half-devil an annoyed grunt but drank regardless. The sour juice washed down the taste of grease and fat he just consumed. When he was done, Dante lowered him back into bed and went to do his business. Credo watched the devil hunter pulled a few books out of his bag. His interest was piqued.

“What are those?”

“Business,” replied the half-devil, grinning as he held a flashy magazine up, “...and pleasure.”

Credo cringed. “Sorry I asked.”

“Are you bored, Credo? I can lend you my babes if you want.”

He stared at the wall by his bed, reprimanding his curiousity for starting the conversation. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? “No, thank you. I’m fine with being bored to death.”

“Hey, none of that now. We’re good friends now. I can share.” To Credo’s horror, the half-devil approached the bed and reclaimed his seat. “This here is high-quality gent’s magazine. My favourite red-head is on the cover of this issue. Look, isn’t she a babe?” Having limited space to operate, Credo was treated to a sight of a busty young woman spread provocatively on a four-poster bed. She wore nothing but a small bikini bottom that poorly did its job, a pair of hazardous-looking heels, and too much piercings. Her heavy top was bare, framed by wisps of fiery red curls flowing down her shoulders. He looked away with a scowl.

“What’s the matter? Not your kind of babe?”

He glared at Dante angrily. “I have a sister. I don’t like women being used in such lewd manner.” He growled when the other man chuckled.

“You’re so serious all the time, you know that?” Dante tucked the magazine under his arm and rose from his seat. “Alright, big bro, I’m going to head out for more supplies before it gets too dark. Need anything? I can’t guarantee fancy shit unless you got extra cash on you.”

“Untie me.”

“You know I can’t do that. You-”

“I won’t. You have my word.” Credo bit his lower lip. “_Please._”

Dante’s eyes narrowed in mild curiousity. Credo looked down, allowing his hair to hide his growing embarrassment.

“I...need to use the bathroom.”

To his surprise, the devil hunter didn’t laugh or mock him. The belts around his ankles were swiftly undone, allowing him to cross his legs. He watched Dante undid the straps around his wrists, punching the other man once he was free crossed his mind. His bladder was more pressing however. Finally free, Credo sat up and rubbed his chaffed wrists. Dante stepped aside to allow him room to move. “There’s clean towels in the bathroom if you need it.”

“Thank you.”

Before Credo could take a step, the half-devil spoke again, “Keep the door open.”

He turned around to give the man an incredulous stare. ”...What?”

“The door stays open.” Dante smirked. “Or I’ll come in with you.”

“I told you I’m not going to escape.”

“Don’t be shy. It’s not like you have what I haven’t seen before.” Dante laughed when the general paled and frantically checked his waistband. “I meant _in general_. Sheesh, you’re really shy, aren’t you? That's cute.”

Not trusting his voice to sound as scathing as he wanted, Credo only responded with the frostiest glower he could muster.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bond of trust cannot be built without affection.

In the many years of his service, Credo was proud to say that he was one of the youngest to bear the rank he had now. Five years of joining the Order and he was already a member of the high council. 'A prodigious leader', they called him. Credo often found it insulting how they cheaply label him as ‘natural talent’ as if to discredit his tireless effort in earning his position. Becoming the second most-powerful man in Fortuna was no picnic; aside from the military advantage, Credo could hardly see much allure in his career. However, the auburn-haired man knew many coveted his position and the fact that Sanctus’ favour rested on his side only put him in a hotter seat.

While Credo knew he and Agnus were never in good terms, that nut case wasn’t one who would be interested in his militia position. No, the science lunatic might despise him for many reasons, but to risk failing their grand plan? The man wasn't a fool. Although Credo still suspected Agnus was involved in the drugging, he was more concerned of the fact that one of his men betrayed him. The idea of a fox amidst his hounds unsettled him. He trusted them with his life. Suddenly he realised that by ‘kidnapping’ him, Dante had probably saved him from an unspeakable fate.

_That doesn't mean I'm thanking him, after all he's done._ The devil hunter still kidnapped and tied him to the bed. The lacerations around his wrists stung upon contact, but the injury was mercifully superficial. The back of his head was still a little sore, and it took him a bit of courage to feel if there was a lump behind his head. That injury too wasn't serious. Concussion wasn't something he was fond of having.

“Hey, talk to me.”

_Speak of the devil._ Credo closed his eyes and tried to ignore the voice from the next room.

“C’mon, Credo. If you don’t make a sound, I’ll come in there.”

“The door is open. You can see me. Isn’t that sufficient enough?” He stood with his back to the door, taking care not to let the devil hunter see his front. If his bladder wasn't screaming for relief, he was prepared to fight his captor for a little privacy. He glared into the dull grey wall; as long as he focused on ignoring the other man, he wouldn’t feel so humiliated. The bathroom was understandingly a little run-down, but it was clean. The shower, sink, and toilet were in working condition. A bundle of clean towels sat on the medicine cabinet above the sink. For an abandoned facility, the general couldn't ask for more. The room didn’t have a lamp; Credo noticed he hadn’t seen any lighting fixture within the residence. The only light source he could see within the cramped room was from the tiny window high above the toilet. He doubted he could even fit his head through it. There wasn't a way out of that cabin except through the front door.

“Is that an invitation?” Credo nearly jumped when Dante popped at the door frame with that infuriatingly teasing smile of his. He felt his face heated up at how those pale eyes scanned his form, shamelessly lingering around the skin of his exposed hips. “Hmm, boxers. Freebird, huh?"

“You-!” He hoisted his waistband up hastily – mindful not to hurt himself – and turned his body away from the other man. “What do you think you're doing?! Ever heard of 'privacy'?! Go away!” he hissed, glaring at the devil hunter in both frustration and embarrassment.

The devil hunter ignored him. Much to his chagrin, the man decided to lean against the door frame. “Relax. You were taking quite a while so I wanted to make sure you weren't having any trouble.” Credo could feel the other man's eyes on his rigid back as if they could see right through his clothes.

“The only trouble I can see right now is your insistence in bothering me,” the general shot back heatedly.

“Not sure you noticed, but you're the only one I can talk to around here.” For a moment, Credo wondered if he was in the company of a bored five year old. The half-devil was as annoying as one if not more. “Besides, there's no guarantee that this is a Sans Demon Zone.”

“Noted. If the toilet starts to growl, I'll let you know so you can talk to it,” Credo replied flatly.

Dante let out a light chuckle at his response before the man relented and backed off. Certain that the half-devil was gone, Credo hurriedly cleaned himself and flushed the toilet. The contraption gurgled loudly like a dying beast, and for a moment the general worried that he relieved himself into a demonic toilet. That would be a first.

After he concluded that no, the toilet wasn't demonic, Credo washed his hands at the sink. Reddish water sloshed out of the rusty pipes before it gradually cleared. He sighed when his skin made contact with the cool water; he considered washing his face before he caught sight of movements reflected in the cloudy mirror. Alarmed, he spun around on his heels to find the devil hunter was standing behind him. Startled, the general stumbled back with a small yelp. It was lucky that he caught himself before he could slip and make a fool of himself. He hadn't even heard the other man move. It took Credo a few seconds to remember how to breathe and move his jaw, “What are-?” His question was left unfinished when a long, battle-worn finger pressed against his parted lips, effectively silencing the auburn-haired man. When the surprise melted away, it came to his attention how uncomfortably close Dante was. Credo tried to take a step back before he realised he had no space to retreat. He was trapped between the sink and the taller male. It didn't seem like the devil hunter would allow him to slip away either. The discomfort of porcelain digging into his back mattered very little to the look on Dante's face.

_The look of a predator..._

The man was a hunter, and Credo was his prey.

Trying to remain composed, the auburn-haired general carefully pressed a palm against the man’s clothed chest, intending to push. “If you’d please move-”

“And if I don't?” The close proximity made the devil hunter’s voice sound so husky that Credo forgot what he originally wanted to say. His mind drew blank at the unmistakably seductive undertone the man used. He was certain Dante could see his discomfort from how the man was grinning.

“What’s the matter? You were all bravado and sass just now. Does this,” the devil hunter looked at the distance between them, drawing attention to their pressed bodies, “...bother you?”

Credo struggled to form an intelligent response but his voice was clogged in his throat. This was the first time he allowed someone to intrude his personal space and after what he learnt of the devil hunter, being this close to the other male was not something he looked forward to. The half-devil was fully aware of how his actions affected the general and he relished it. Credo jerked back when Dante leaned forward; they were so close that he could see the varying pigments of azure and silver in the half-devil's pale eyes.

_Like a pair of rare jewels-_

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have really pretty eyes?” Dante asked, smiling when all Credo could manage was stare back.

_Did I say that out loud?_

“You might want to close those lips, General. I could get the wrong idea.”

Credo clamped his mouth shut with an audible click as warmth rushed up his cheeks. Like an idiot, he allowed himself to fall into the half-devil's trap. Whether the man was serious or not, Dante had made it abundantly obvious that he was fine with the idea of flirting with another man, as he had done so since their first meet. Credo had never received such attention before—much less from another male—and his inexperience in such circumstances, combined with Dante's rather bold show of interest, made him feel extremely vulnerable. The general felt he needed to distance himself from the other male before things became even more awkward. Credo pawed at the sink behind him, desperate to ease the pressure on his spine when the half-devil refused to budge. The wet porcelain felt cold under his fingers, contrasting with the heat radiating from the other male. Credo inwardly cursed his thin shirt for its poor insulation property when he could feel Dante’s warmth seeped through; his skin breaking into tiny goosebumps at the difference of temperature.

_It's not just temperature,_ a treacherous voice in the back of his mind added, a spark of betrayal he didn’t expect existed within his own head. _He's built like a rock...of all things hard._ He stubbornly glared at the wall behind the half-devil until his eyes blurred, unwilling to acknowledge his face was burning redder when he felt something hard poked against his left thigh.

_That's his belt buckle. Please let it be his belt buckle._

Credo let out small groan when the hardness dug into his thigh. The devil hunter mistook the noise for a response however; he could feel Dante's hot breath against his lips when the man spoke.

“Then again,” the devil hunter wondered out loud, sounding genuinely curious, “Is it wrong to want to kiss you?”

The unexpected admission caught the auburn-haired man by surprise and he stared, struggling to understand what Dante meant.

_He’s joking. He clearly prefers women, as proven by that magazine. This is one of his unnerving games to unsettle me._

Even with that reasoning in mind Credo still couldn't stop himself from blushing. He stiffly turned his face away when Dante's nose brushed against his cheek, feeling hot breath tickled his neck. Credo allowed himself a mental pat on the back when the other man sounded a little disappointed when he missed his mark. The half-devil wouldn’t find him very easily bothered now that he knew the rules of the game. As long as he persevered and remained calm, he would beat his captor at his own game. His victory was interrupted when he felt Dante’s chest rumbled with mirth at his little show of defiance. Before the general could wonder what the other man found so amusing, an arm reached around his waist—Credo tensed; his hands poised to retaliate—and the trickle of water behind him stopped with a rusty squeak.

_...Oh._

Credo was about to breathe out a sigh of relief when gloved hands crept on his hips, teasing the waistband of his pants. Alarmed, and every bit affronted by the unwanted touch, he jumped to push at the devil hunter’s shoulders in a desperate effort to shove him off. "Ah!" He let out a surprised gasp when they managed to slip under his shirt to tease the bare skin of his waist.

The devil hunter didn’t appear too apologetic when he pulled away, allowing his captive some breathing space yet still trapping the general against the sink. Credo bit his lower lip to drown an angry growl bubbling in his chest when Dante tilted his head with a playful smile.

“You forgot to shut the water off.”

_That wasn't really your concern,_ Credo groused inwardly, choosing to respond with a severe glare instead. His forehead creased deeper when it only served to amuse the half-devil. “What is so amusing?”

“You look real cute when you’re angry.”

Refusing to show reaction, the general scoffed, “That’s amazing. You understand human emotions. I thought it’s a strange notion to you since you insist on ignoring it.”

Dante’s eyes twinkled with mirth. "You need to lighten up, Credo."

“What I _need_ is for you to move aside.“ Credo pushed past the devil hunter. He managed to get as far as three steps outside the bathroom door before a gloved hand grabbed his wrist, tugging him into an abrupt halt. He whipped his head around to glare at the other man, almost snarling, “What now?” The half-devil jutted his chin at the bed.

“Back into bed, General.”

_What?_ Credo looked at the bed—at the belts—and his face slackened. “I said I won’t run.”

“I heard. It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Dante replied, his expression softened to an almost apologetic smile, “I just rather be safe.”

The thought of being bound made his mouth dry. Credo briefly considered begging – his pride was the least of his concerns when he was at the risk of being tied down the bed—but when Dante tugged him towards the accursed furniture, he yanked his wrist from the man’s firm grip so hard he almost dislocated his shoulder. If the devil hunter was surprised by his violent reaction, he didn’t see it. With his heart pounding loudly in his ears, all he could think of was to run. _I won’t be tied down again!_ Credo managed to wrench his wrist free but a thick, strong arm slipped around his waist from behind. He struggled—tried to, at least —and then he couldn't feel the floor under his feet. Credo blinked when his cheek rested on thick fur before it dawned on him that he was lying face down on the rug. The material was dusty and smelled stale —like a damp cloth left to dry indoors—yet he found it strangely calming.

_It doesn’t smell sterile._

The general focused on breathing, relishing in the mouldy scent as his pulse slowly returned to normal. He blinked wearily when gloved fingers gently brushed his disheveled hair out of his face. During the strange calmness Credo found that he didn’t really mind the touch nor he was bothered by the fact that Dante was straddling his back. His arms laid dormant by his side and he didn’t feel like moving them. The half-devil seemed to sense this as well so he allowed them to remain free. Credo closed his eyes when fingers raked through his hair, gently massaging his scalp down to the back of his neck. He could feel himself becoming lax and the tremor rattling his bones subsided.

The pressure on his back lessened that the general could turn around if he wanted to but he remained where he was. He cracked his eyes open when the fingers stopped their gentle kneading between his shoulder blades. Glancing over his shoulder at the other man, Credo dimly noted the half-devil was crawled over him.

“Feeling better?”

Not trusting his own voice yet, Credo managed a weak nod, his cheek rubbed against the rough texture of the thick rug. Gradually he shifted to roll on his side so he could breathe easier. Dante let him, only offering to brush strands of hair from his damp face.

“You don’t know how to make a noise, huh?” He looked at the devil hunter questioningly, prompting the other man to continue, “You never once said ‘no’.”

Credo looked away; refusal wasn’t something the Order found very productive. What use did they have in a soldier who couldn’t obey? His job was to serve, not to refuse. Even those nightmarish ‘experiments’ were expected of him. His loyalty demanded sacrifice, and obedience was the only thing that carried significance.

“Alright, I won’t tie you down if it gives you bad vibes. So you—” Credo turned to look at the sudden pause. The devil hunter was staring into a direction with a small frown. Curious, he craned his neck to see what the man was looking at but all he could see was a plain, moth-eaten wall.

“...Is something wrong?” His voice was much quieter than he intended, but the half-devil didn’t seem to have any difficulty hearing him. Credo swallowed the sound threatening to escape his throat when the half-devil turned to look down at him. The way Dante looked— He wanted to look away—there was something about those pale eyes that unnerved him—but he couldn’t bring himself to. The general was suddenly aware that he was lying prostrate under the man and his shirt was hiked up to his midriff during the scuffle. Flushing at the rather provocative position, he discreetly smoothened his shirt down before Dante took notice of the exposed skin.

“Dante.” The devil hunter hummed his response and Credo grew more uncomfortable when it sounded like a deep growl. “Can you please...move?”

Like a light switch, Dante’s frown lifted and the usual playful smile spread on his lips. “Why?”

“The floor is not very sanitary.” _You crawling over me isn’t very ‘sanitary’._ At least the man wasn’t close enough to poke him with his...belt buckle.

The half devil chuckled. “I’m not complaining. It’s a nice position.”

The general furrowed his brows at the response. Dante snorted a laugh before he relented and pushed himself to stand. “I'm going to check on something," he announced. Credo wanted to ask what the man meant but Dante had already walked to the door. The devil hunter held the door knob in his hand, pausing to look at the general with a teasing look. “Don’t go anywhere.” With that little reminder—warning?—given, the man was gone. The only proof the devil hunter was there moments ago was the faint heat that still lingered on his skin where the man had touched. Credo sat up, bringing his hand to touch his cheek before he stopped himself.

_What am I doing?_ He could still feel Dante’s gentle touches on his skin.

_Pathetic. You command the Knights of the Holy Order and yet you freeze up when a man hit on you._

_But Dante wasn’t just a man,_ the traitorous voice interjected defiantly from the back of his mind. Credo balled his fists and took deep breaths to calm his nerve. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice the fact that the half-devil was attractive – Dante had his charming qualities – but he wasn’t attracted to the man. He was straight.

Was he?

_Why am I mulling over this? He's gotten into my head._

_'Is it wrong to want to kiss you?'_

His cheeks coloured remembering Dante's breathy voice when he said those words. _Now is not the time._ Leaving the issue aside for another time, Credo decided now was probably his only window to escape. He had to return to his men; however bad the situation was, he was still their commanding officer. The traitor would be rooted out and dealt with accordingly to further strengthen his authority. With the devil hunter away, he could at least gain a few miles on the other before the man realised he was gone. Scanning the room, he began hunting for his gears. His boots were missing—probably hidden to prevent him from running away—but his sword was there, propped against the fireplace. The majority of his uniform were neatly folded but most of his belts had become a part of the bed. Shuddering at the recent memory of being tied down, Credo decided to forgo the boots and belts as he was in a hurry. Rolling his coat under his arm and grabbing his sword, he burst out of the front door – it was left unlocked – before a thunderous bang stunned the fleeing man in his tracks.

_Rain? ...No, gunfire._

Another loud bang exploded after the first before it became a series of rapid succession. Momentarily forgetting his plan, the auburn-haired general peered from behind the wall. There was a large lake slightly downhill where he saw rapid flashes of gunshot between the trees. The demons were that close and he didn’t even sense them? He could see a blur of black and silver—_Dante_—dancing around a group of Assaults. It didn’t seem like the half-devil was having trouble. No, a devil hunter of Dante’s calibre could easily handle a mob of lesser demons. It would provide a sufficient distraction as he slipped away. Of course. He should move while the man was busy.

Yet the urge to flee escaped him and the general stood rooted to the ground.

_I can’t abandon him._

Regardless the constant teasing, Dante respected his boundaries. Credo looked at the rug; he recalled how Dante comforted him during his panic attack. The man could have taken advantage of his vulnerable state if he wanted to. Even when he was unconscious, the devil hunter had done nothing but cared for him. How could he leave his saviour, regardless Dante’s need for his help, when the man proved to be nothing but merciful?

“Damn everything,” Credo cursed under his breath as he dropped his coat and made his way towards the trees. He just knew he’d regret this one way or another.

In hindsight, Credo regretted not putting more effort in searching for his boots. The jagged rocks and thorny grass weren’t pleasant to tread on, even if being barefooted allowed him to be stealthy. Ducking behind a large trunk, he spied the group of Assaults stalking around Dante. They were boxing the devil hunter in—at least tried to—by forming a ring around him. Credo would go as far as calling these demons intelligent for their little capacity of being tactical but that was it. They weren’t _that_ smart.

The first Assault he impaled gave a surprised shriek before it gurgled its last. Wrenching his sword out of the dead lizard, Credo swung up just in time to block a sharp claw coming down his chest. These demons only proved to be a challenge because they were fast. Pushing the Assault off his blade, he took the demon’s momentary falter to swipe at its lower half, spilling putrid blood over the sandy banks. He didn’t wait for the creature to shriek, ending its brief life with a downward cleave, splitting it into two. Credo sensed one rushing towards him from behind before a deafening bang caused a mist of dark red to explode over him. Immediately the general covered his face with his arm before he could inhale the vile vapour, hearing the dull thud of the demon’s dead remains landing somewhere to his left.

“Thought I told you to stay put,” Dante chided in slight annoyance, lowering his still smoking gun as the last of the Assaults succumbed to its wriggling throes of death. “You're pretty stubborn, huh?”

“You can’t order me around.” Credo watched the half-devil stepped over the dead demons towards him. Memories of the man pinning him down with his presence alone resurfaced. Thankfully Dante wasn't as close as before, giving him a small berth to breathe and compose himself. Wiping his damp cheek with the back of his hand, he glared at the other man while pointing towards the carcasses. “I’ve fought these demons before, I can handle them.”

The devil hunter smirked. “I don’t doubt that.” Pale eyes swept over his bare feet. “You didn’t even bother putting on your boots before you come running here. You must be pretty worried about me, huh?”

Credo let out a soft puff of annoyance. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not wearing boots because you hid them.”

“And still you come running to save me,” Dante reiterated with a light laugh. “There’s no use lying, Credo. I know you have the hots for me.”

There was something therapeutic in imagining running his blade through the devil hunter. _Would it kill him?_ Heaving a deep breath, Credo waited until the burn on his cheeks lessened and pointed his blade at the other man, his voice flat and unamused, “Get over yourself. I’m only doing my job in eradicating demons.”

“Thought that’s what you need me for.” Dante ignored the sword pointed to his chest as he closed their distance. “Although, I do love a guy who knows how to handle a sword.”

Credo had a strong feeling the phrase had another meaning to it.

The devil hunter didn’t wait for a response, when he stood directly in front of the auburn-haired man, he asked again, “Tell me this then; you had plenty of time to escape when I was occupied. Why didn’t you?”

“That’s...” Credo opened his mouth to respond before he realised he had no real answer to that. Clearing his throat, he lowered his sword and looked at the trees in disinterest. He frowned when Dante chuckled at his loss of word.

“No need to change colour for me, General. I like you all the same.”

He ran his hand over his face, cursing his complexion for being too obvious. “Shut up.”

Dante was about to say something before the ground below them shook. The late afternoon sunlight reflected on the lake made the ripples seem more apparent that they weren’t caused by the soft breeze. Credo looked around in high alert, mentally kicking himself for not paying attention to his surroundings. He glanced at Dante, seeing the devil hunter’s attention was directed towards the lake. There was a large whirlpool in the middle of the lake and he could sense something ominous from within the dark vortex. A demon that large wasn’t common. Unconsciously, he joined the devil hunter in observing the strange phenomenon. “What is that?”

Dante lifted his shoulders in a minute shrug. “Something huge, ugly, and violently pissed.” He turned to regard the general with a tilt of his head, “If you still want to run now’s your chance.”

Credo let out an indignant growl, “In case you forgot, I can also fight.” Just who did Dante think he was? “I told you, you can't order me around.”

The half-devil chuckled as if he found Credo’s determination endearing. “Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when things turn south,” Dante remarked just as the lake burst in a staggering tremor. Water rose nearly as high as a house and Credo was momentarily concerned that the banks would be flooded. Thankfully the huge wave crashed before it even neared the shore, spilling over the banks and soaking the previously dry land. The auburn-haired man wished he wasn’t barefooted; the water was ice cold. When the commotion died, the lake settled as if nothing happened. Credo was a skeptical man; he knew whatever it was wouldn’t just die away after causing such disturbance. The forest was quiet – too quiet – and that only heightened his suspicions.

“Dante,” he called out, anxious to know if the devil hunter felt the underlying danger.

The half-devil nodded in reply, “It's here. Keep your eyes peeled.” Dante threw a small grin over his shoulder at the other man, “Think ugly is too shy to- watch out!”

The warning came too late. Credo barely had time to register the cold and slimy touch around his ankles, jerking him off his footing and dragging him towards the banks. Looking down, Credo saw a pale blue flesh no different than the hand of an octopus wrapped around his ankles.

“Credo! Hang on!” Looking up, he could see Dante was having difficulty dodging the onslaught of tentacles to reach him.

_My sword!_ To his dismay, his sword fell out of his grip when he first fell. Credo dug his fingers into the sandy soil when the demon dragged him closer to the water. He tried to kick it off so he could crawl to his discarded weapon – he almost succeeded – but upon sensing his struggle, more tentacles slithered out of the water to wrap around his wrists and waist. Credo nearly gagged at how horrible the creature smelled. He continued to struggle but it only succeeded in making the limbs squeeze tighter. His breathing was now laboured. His muscles protested as his movements became more and more restricted.

Four consecutive gunshots rang in a distance and Credo found he could breathe again. The slimy tentacles around his body were severed by the shots and he spent no time to shake them off. He scrambled back up to gain some distance from the lake, watching the amputated limbs thrashed in pain as they wriggled back into the lake. The general just reached his sword before he heard more gunshots over his head. “Dante!” A tentacle held the devil hunter nearly twenty feet above ground but the man didn’t seem the least bothered by it, shooting at the other tentacles that tried to slap his guns away. Credo rushed to hack at the hands he could reach before Dante stopped him.

“Stay out of this, I got it!”

Credo growled. “Now isn’t the time to be cocky!”

“I’ll be fine, I’m-” Dante gagged when a tentacle wrapped around his forearm. “Phew! If you’re not already underwater I would suggest you take a bath. You stink!” The distraction was the only thing the demon needed. More tentacles wrapped around the half-devil’s limbs and Credo was only able to watch since he couldn’t reach the tentacles with his sword. The demon barely took notice of the gunshots it sustained from Dante’s guns; it swung the half-devil around like a child playing with its toy.

“This is like the worst ride at the fair!” Credo couldn’t really tell if Dante was laughing at his quandary or taunting the demon. The man’s tendency to joke during a serious predicament was baffling. The demon apparently took it as an insult when its prey didn’t seem to fear it, so it submerged, bringing the half-devil underwater with it.

“Dante!” Credo watched as the last of the man’s silver hair disappeared into the murky lake with a large splash. The water rippled and washed over the bank. He scanned the lake to see if there were movements in the water. Where is he? What’s taking him so long? Credo could feel sweat forming on his temple. It had been almost half an hour and there were no signs of the half-devil resurfacing.

_Is he...dead?_

The probability of the devil hunter perishing had never scared him so much until now. Credo had seen Dante take more damage than this before he would show signs of being affected, he didn’t want to believe the devil hunter was easily overcome by something as simple as drowning.

_But he’s still part human. Even devils aren’t immortal._

Credo looked up when he noticed something floated in the middle of the lake. “Dante!” He stabbed his sword into the sandy banks and rushed into the lake. The cold water bit at his skin when he was waist deep but he ignored it. Credo didn’t know if the demon was still alive and just waited for him to be in the water to attack so he had to be quick. He swam as hard as he could towards the floating object and he was relieved to find that it was indeed Dante. The devil hunter appeared to be unconscious. He grabbed the man’s shirt and attempted to drag him only to find resistance.

_He's stuck to something. The demon?_ Credo sucked a deep breath and submerged. He squinted in the dim light until he found out a tentacle was still wrapped around the man’s ankle. He pried the slimy limb free and watched the tentacle descend lifelessly into the murky abyss. So the demon was dead, that was a relief. He still didn’t want to spend more time in the water than necessary though.

Breaking into the surface, Credo coughed and gasped for air. He manoeuvred around so he could wrap an arm around the devil hunter. After he made sure the man’s face was above water – Dante’s face was pale – he kicked as hard as he could towards the shore. It felt like ages to reach land, so when Credo felt mud under his feet, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. He tightened his grip on Dante, knowing the man would be heavier without water supporting his weight, and dragged the unconscious half-devil bodily onto dry land. When they were sufficiently far from the water’s edge, Credo felt fatigue began to set in. He fell on his knees and laid Dante on the dry ground before coughing out what little water he had swallowed.

The sun was setting and the chilly air wasn’t helping when he was soaked to the bone. Shivering, the general crawled over to check on the half-devil. “Dante?” He made a quick scan to see if the man was injured. There were no visible injuries he could see aside from the tears on the man’s knuckles. Did Dante punch the demon to death? Credo didn’t know if it was possible, but he supposed the man was desperate since there was no way guns would work underwater. Satisfied he didn’t find blood leaking from the still form, he called again, “Dante?” Credo hesitated before he carefully pushed the wet mop of silver hair from the man’s face. The half-devil’s eyes were closed and his face was almost sickly pale. When he received no response, he tried to hold a finger under the man’s nose. _This is useless. My hands are numb._ Swallowing the growing panic in his chest, Credo laid his head on the man’s chest. He struggled to calm his own frantic heartbeat to listen for Dante’s pulse.

_I... I can’t find a pulse. There's no pulse._

The general shot up and stared at the half-devil with wide eyes. His hands were trembling horribly when he pressed them on the man’s chest. “Dante!” Credo counted each compression while watching for any sign of life from the devil hunter’s face. “This isn’t funny. That demon wasn’t even a challenge for you. You can’t...” His voice cracked. “You can’t be dead. Dante! Get up! Don’t you dare die!” Credo blinked when his sight blurred; his eyes burned the more he looked at Dante’s pale face. “Wake up, damn you!” His fingers were shaking so much that it took some effort to tilt Dante’s head back. After he made sure nothing was constricting his airway, Credo connected their lips to force air down the man’s throat. Dante’s lips were wet and...

_...Warm?_

Credo froze when a hand pushed his head down. He flinched when Dante’s eyes fluttered open, and those pools of pale blue stared directly into his own.

The mixture of elation and disbelief raged wildly through Credo’s mind that the shock didn’t melt away until something warm and wet slithered into his mouth. Is that-?! The general tried to pull away but the hand behind his neck stubbornly held him in place. His cheek flared at the soft rumble – moan – emitted from the other man’s throat as the invading tongue explored his mouth’s cavity. Pale eyes watched him so intently that Credo forgot how to breathe. He let out a muffled gasp when Dante sucked on his bottom lip. Choking and fighting the tears of frustration that began to form in his eyes, the general shoved at Dante’s chest hard enough that he felt the grip behind his neck slipped. Credo fell back on his ass, his mouth open in harsh pants.

Dante sat up with a soft chuckle at the general’s surprised stare. “Mmm...I could get used to a wake up kiss like that.” His tongue darted out to lick at his lips before they curved into a self-satisfied smirk. “Did you miss me?”

“You...you were awake...” Credo trembled as anger and betrayal bubbled in his chest. How could the devil hunter do that to him? Didn’t the man know how terrified he was? He sincerely thought Dante was dying. He was conscious all along, pretending to be- Is everything a game to him? The kiss- Credo slapped a hand over his mouth before he could choke; his chest felt tight and his eyes were burning. Tears? For this stupid and arrogant-

“Credo?” Credo sucked a deep, quivering breath and ferociously blinked the moisture away. His fingers dug into his cheeks so hard that he wondered if it was possible to physically stop the sob from escaping his swollen lips. Dante’s smirk faded into a look of concern. “Are you okay? Your hands are shaking- Credo?”

_Just run._ Credo ignored Dante’s calls as his feet faithfully carried him away. _Don’t stop. Don’t look back._ He could hear the other man’s hurried steps behind him so he quickened his pace. His sight blurred by the time he reached the cabin. He didn’t pause when he pushed through the front door and made a beeline towards the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of Dante entering the cabin when he slammed the bathroom door shut. It had no lock – age had worn it off – so Credo leaned his body heavily against the aged wood and slid down to rest on the cold tile. The room was dark since the sun was setting. In the darkness, Credo allowed his emotions to flow freely.

_Why do I feel this way? It’s not like we know each other that well. I already know he likes to fool around. I should’ve expected it._

Yet the pain he felt was deeper than just plain anger.

_Have I...developed feelings for him?_

Credo could still feel how soft and pliant those lips were against his. The graze of Dante’s coarse chin against his cheek when the man deepened the kiss still tingled on his skin. He had faltered then; divided between the choice of maintaining his distance or surrendering to his own emotions. Even when he pushed the devil hunter away, there was not a moment the kiss felt wrong, and it frightened him. Credo furiously rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. When did he start to care for the man more than just as an objective to his cause? When did his view of their connection begin to distort? Dante was right; he should have left when he had the chance. He felt more tired and emotionally drained in these few days than a whole year of managing the knights.

_I just want to go home._

Credo wondered what everyone was doing at that moment. Were they searching for him? Did they tell Nero and Kyrie about his disappearance? He chuckled wryly.

_They probably think I’m dead._

What would he do if they moved on without him? He stared at his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers unconsciously. Would Dante take him in then? Or would he be left alone, because he highly doubt Dante thought of him as more than a passing interest. What would he be without the Order? What would he be without what he had now?

“I’m such an idiot,” Credo grumbled under his breath.

_I’m falling for him and it terrifies me._

“...Credo?” He jumped when Dante gently rapped at the wood he was leaning against.

Credo groaned into his hands; the devil hunter almost sounded concerned. “Go away.”

There was a soft rustle before Dante’s voice floated through the door, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you...”

_Highly doubt that._

“...but if you don’t mind, I need something from inside the bathroom.”

Credo furrowed his brows in question. “...What is it?” There was a long pause that he wondered if the man didn’t hear his question.

“There’s a kit in the medicine cabinet. I think there should be a tweezers in it.”

_What would he need that for-oh._ He pushed himself to stand with a weary sigh. “Just a second.” He opened the cabinet and found a small, white box with a slightly faded red cross on it. The limited light forced him to squint to see through the contents. There were a few rolls of yellowed bandages sealed in small bags of plastic, a small scissors, a tweezers and a few more items he had no interest in knowing. Credo closed the box and glared at the door. The general knew he would have to face the half-devil sooner or later.

_Better get it over with._

Dante looked quite surprised when the bathroom door swung open. Credo walked out with a purposeful gait; his face betrayed nothing but calm indifference. He stopped to stand in front of the devil hunter and for a while, none of them said anything. He glared at Dante, waiting to see if the man had something to say. Fortunately the devil hunter was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He noticed two oil lamps had been lit to battle the cloak of darkness; one sat on the table while the other hung on the wall next to the bathroom door. They weren’t too bright but they were enough to illuminate the small room. Credo averted his attention from the surroundings when Dante cleared his throat.

“I brought your sword back,” Dante offered, pointing at the blade propped against the bed frame.

Credo nodded his thanks. “I appreciate it.” He looked down when the half-devil pointed at the box in his hand.

“Mind giving me that?”

Credo alternated between the devil hunter’s face and his extended hand. He had half the mind to refuse. He grabbed the man’s wrist, surprising the half-devil, and turned it around so he could see the injured knuckle. There were tiny, foreign shards and splinters in the wounds that prevented them from healing properly. They weren’t bleeding, but they looked pretty irritated and had started to swell. “Can you do it yourself with hands like these?” He snorted when the devil hunter only responded with a sheepish grin.

_Unbelievable._

“Sit down,” he motioned Dante towards the rug and the half-devil complied without a complaint. They only had one working chair and the couch, while convenient, looked like it couldn’t hold their combined weights. Credo didn’t want to ruin the bed with their soaked garments, thus the floor was the only reasonable choice. Knowing they would need the light, he decided to bring the lamp on the table along before joining the other male on the rug. He paused for Dante to kick off his boots; a frown creased his forehead when the devil hunter carelessly threw the drenched footwear under the table.

_I fear to think of what happened to **mine**._

Sighing, Credo tugged at his pant legs and sat down across the other man. He took out the tweezers and laid a scrap of cloth on the floor. He held out an open palm towards the devil hunter, arching his brows when Dante didn’t move. “Well?” Pale eyes searched his face silently before a hand was laid on top of his open palm. Credo ignored the jolt he felt at the contact of bare skins, focusing his attention to tend to the split knuckles. He gently pulled the torn skin open and carefully used the tweezers to pull a shard out. Credo held the bloodied piece up – it looked like a broken piece of a scale – before disposing the shard on the prepared cloth. He had dug out some splinters before Dante began to shift restlessly in his seat. Credo let out a soft, aggravated sigh. _Of course he can’t stay still._ “What is it?”

“Ah, well,” the devil hunter started hesitantly, a rare change for him, “I’m really sorry about just now. I didn’t think you were really scared.” Dante nervously scratched the back of his neck with his free hand when the general pinned him with a glare. “If it makes you feel better, I really was out of it until you dragged me to the shore.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Credo grouched, wishing the man would drop the issue. He returned to the task at hand, pulling something that looked like a broken barb. “I was worried, not scared.”

“But I saw you. Your eyes were red_-ow_!” Dante cradled his hand while shooting the general an accusing glare. “You touched a nerve.”

“Good,” Credo deadpanned, allowing his mouth to form into a sarcastic smirk. “Come, there’s still a splinter left.” When the half-devil refused to surrender his hand, he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I’ll be gentle.” Seeming to trust the general’s promise, Dante finally allowed his hand to be tended. Credo pulled the last piece of splinter out and dropped the bloodied piece on the cloth. He watched how Dante’s knuckles knit itself close until the only thing left were smears of dried blood.

“Done. The other one.” Dante happily placed his other hand in the general’s palm. Credo knew the other man watched him like a hawk as he worked. He resumed the task with care, making sure he didn’t miss anything until he pulled every foreign object out of the injured flesh, allowing the wounds to close and heal. Credo wrapped the bloodied shards in the scrap of cloth to throw away later while watching Dante inspected and moved his knuckles to check on their healing.

“Thanks, Credo.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He did, after all, owe his life to the devil hunter. “Consider us even.”

Dante seemed to consider this before he nodded with a smile. “I guess we are.” They fell into mutual silence then, and Credo took the moment to marvel how the other male looked when they weren't busy holding their shields up. Dante’s eyes seemed to glow in the golden light. He had never seen the man looked so worn—fragile almost—with his wet mop of hair and soaked clothes. It was as if his soul was laid down like an open book. Credo wondered about this for a moment before he had to look away; he couldn’t look at the devil hunter without his eyes diverging towards those full lips.

Pale eyes shifted to look at the auburn-haired man when Credo cleared his throat and motioned towards the windows. “I suppose you're not going out now since it's already dark out...” he trailed off when Dante gently took his right wrist in his hand.

“Why did you save me?”

The general blinked, not expecting the sudden question. “Excuse me?”

“You risked your life,” Dante interjected, pulling the other man closer by the wrist. “You didn’t know the demon was dead and yet you got into the lake to get me out.” Credo bit down his lower lip when their distance continued to shrink; Dante was already half-way leaning over him when the man spoke again, “Why do you care so much?”

_Because I’m an idiot._

"Because..." Dante was so close that a stray strand of silver brushed against his nose. Credo froze.

_Oh, no._ **_No_**.

His nose twitched with the urge to sneeze. Credo held his breath in an attempt to hold it in; his eyes watered when the itch grew worse. When the stray strand tickled his nose again, the battle was lost and he sneezed-

...right into the half-devil’s face.

_Savior have mercy-_ Credo clamped a hand over his mouth, horrified at what he had done. Dante had his eyes squeezed shut in a slight grimace, not likely expecting the sudden spray in his face. “I-I’m terribly sorry!” Credo frantically looked around for something to clean the man’s face with. He found a napkin and used it to wipe Dante’s face apologetically.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I couldn't help it." He stopped talking when the devil hunter started to laugh. “Dante?”

Dante’s eyes were twinkling with tears by the time his laughter subsided. "It's fine. You can't help things like that anyway." He waved Credo’s hand away, grinning in amusement as he wiped his face with his sleeve. “I guess we should get out of these wet clothes before we catch a cold.”

Before the general could respond, the devil hunter had already undone his holsters and belts, peeling his damp shirt off his shoulders. The sight of the man’s alabaster skin caused Credo to flush. With the shirt gone, he was treated to the full span of the devil hunter's highly-defined muscles. His eyes were drawn to the sculpted contours down Dante's narrow hips, following the trail of fine hair until they disappeared under the tight pants.

_A body envied by the Heavens._

When Dante stood up to undo his pant’s button, Credo waved his hands frantically. “S-stop! Are you just going to undress right here?”

The devil hunter stopped to consider the question. “That’s the idea. Is there a problem?”

Credo couldn’t tell the man was serious until then. “You do know there’s a bathroom you can use.”

“I’m not the shy one here.” Dante gave him a sly smile; his thumbs were hooked under his already dangerously low waistband, ready to peel the wet article off. “You can use the bathroom if you want.”

The moment Dante pushed his pants down, Credo turned and scrambled towards the bathroom. He vaguely heard the man snickered but he didn’t dare look back. Retreating into the tiny room, Credo shut the door behind him before leaning against the wood. His ears caught the sound of wet cloth hitting the wooden floor. Images of the devil hunter’s naked torso replayed in his mind. He closed his eyes, thankful that the redness of his cheeks was lost in the darkness.

_Great. He already gave me a hard time when clothed. Now we’re both naked._

Credo shivered when the cool night air blew in through the small window. _Still, I should get dry._ After making sure he didn’t hear the devil hunter behind the closed door, he quickly stripped down to his boxers. He held his soggy clothes up and scrunched his nose in distaste at the sight of mud and unidentified brownish sludge splattered on the previously pristine white cloth.

_I strongly doubt they’re salvageable. _

Regardless, Credo washed the stains and wringed the garments of excess water as best as he could. He grabbed a towel to dry his hair before wrapping it around his waist. Grabbing another towel to wrap around his shoulders, Credo exited the bathroom with his damp clothes in hand.

Dante was stretched lazily on the bed with the sheet covering him from waist down, appearing quite relaxed on the mattress. He perked up when he saw the general. “Hey, you can hang your clothes to dry there,” he suggested, motioning towards where his own clothes hung. “Once you’re done, you can come join me.”

Credo hung his clothes up before turning to give the man an incredulous look. “Join you?”

“It’s only going to get colder and we don’t have anything to burn. Sharing body heat sounds like the best plan,” the half-devil reasoned, sounding nearly innocent if not for the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Come on, I promise I won’t molest you.”

Colour rose to his cheeks at the concept of lying in the same bed with the devil hunter. “No.” Credo clutched on the towel around his shoulders tightly. “I rather sleep on the floor.”

Dante looked a little disappointed at his choice. “Well, suit yourself then. Good night.” The half-devil rolled around to face the wall.

When he was sure Dante had fallen asleep, Credo took the opportunity to explore the small room. He was pleased to rediscover his discarded coat and wasted no time to trade the towel around his shoulders for the heavy cloth. Satisfied, Credo checked on the couch to see if it was habitable. The worn cushions did nothing to lessen the stab of its broken springs that the general gave up trying to get comfortable on it. Credo opted to settle on the rug with his back against the couch, finding the position slightly kinder to his aching body. He heard a soft snore from the bed and glared at the perpetrator.

_Well at least someone is comfortable._ Credo narrowed his eyes in envy when he realised the man’s hair had already dried and returned to its usual look without much of an effort. Thanks to the length of his hair, it was still quite damp and if he went to sleep before it dried, he was bound to wake up with frizzle all over his head.

_Damn devils and their good looks._

Even within the limited light, he could see the contours of Dante’s back clearly. His eyes were once again entranced by the swells and dips of the man’s sculpted back, trailing down the smooth curve of spine until it disappeared underneath the folds of white sheet. If he squinted hard enough, he could make out the form of the man’s shapely-

_Stop. Just **stop**._

Credo tore his eyes from the sight, feeling his face warming at what he had done. This is getting ridiculous. Unethical, even.

Sighing, the general ran his fingers on the embroidered sleeve of his uniform, finding comfort from tracing the fine, silk thread decorating the regal ensemble. Donning the uniform always gave him a sense of self – a sense of belonging. It gave him purpose. He pulled the material tighter around him and closed his eyes, willing himself to find refuge in his sleep.

_Cold._

The first thing that came to his mind upon waking up was the drop of temperature. Credo groggily opened his eyes in the darkness. He stared at the ceiling – when did he lie down? – with a blank look. It had grown so cold that he could see his own breath in front of his face.

_Is it raining?_

He could hear the muffled patter of rain against the window. The frosty air bit into his bones that the general didn't realise his teeth was clattering. His coat was missing. Shivering, Credo curled on his side in an attempt to preserve body heat. His hand brushed against something warm and he unconsciously scooted closer to the source of heat. The smell of gunpowder and leather pervaded his nose but the meaning was lost to him. He was about to drift back to sleep when the heat moved and curled around his shoulders.

"Nice of you to join me, General."

Like a wash of cold shower, the sleepiness hanging on his eyelids vanished and Credo opened his eyes to find Dante's smug smirk in front of his face. His eyes grew impossibly wide upon realising he was in bed with the other man. How did I get here? The bed could barely accommodate two adult males at a time, so to fit the limited of space, they were pressed flush together. Credo let out a soft choking noise behind his throat when he realised this; if not for the sheet and towel covering their bodies, they would be literally naked.

"How did I get here? L-let go." He pushed against the devil-hunter only to have the other man pull him closer.

Dante shook his head in refusal. "Stay. I carried you into bed. You nearly froze to death."

Credo shivered feeling a hand rubbed up and down his bare back, massaging warmth back into his shivering body. He considered resisting, but when the devil hunter pulled him into an embrace, the thought easily slipped out of his mind. Dante was warm; his body was like a furnace in the cold night. The man was good with his hand too; he felt Dante expertly knead at the tense muscles in his back, knowing just the right way to rub his tension away. Credo groaned softly as his body turned to putty; he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relieved.

_I’ll stay a little longer..._

“Feels good?” Dante’s chest rumbled in a low chortle when the general only replied with an incoherent mumble. He ducked his head under the half-devil’s rugged chin, noting how the man’s solid chest vibrated under his palms. Credo was mildly surprised to find out it wasn’t as hard as it looked; the flesh was soft and supple to the touch. He unconsciously rubbed his hands against the smooth skin when he felt fine hair under his fingertips, following the trail as they diverged towards two, rosy nipples. Credo stopped his hands when he felt a hot puff of air in his hair, the hand on his back stilling between his shoulder blades. When the hand resumed its earlier routine, Credo took it as a sign to continue his ministration. He slid his hands down and felt the firm muscles jump under his fingers.

“I’m not sure what you’re planning, General, but keep that up and you’ll start my engine.”

_...Start what?_

He blinked sleepily when Dante appeared in front of his face. A coarse thumb running over his bottom lip slowly roused Credo from his dazed state.

"Hey."

"Mmm?"

The half-devil smiled at his unintelligent response. "Will you let me kiss you now?"

"Wha-mmh...?" Credo blinked rapidly when warm lips brushed against his own. He let out a muffled moan when Dante shifted above him, taking advantage of his slackened jaw to push a slick tongue through his barrier of teeth. Credo moaned when he felt the muscle brush against his tongue, coaxing it into play. It felt just like their first kiss by the lake; hot, and wet.

_Untamed._

His eyes fluttered shut when he timidly returned the kiss. Credo could feel his face warmed when the response earned him a delighted hum from the devil hunter, who started to put more force into the kiss. Dante's comforting weight pressed on top of his chest; encasing the general within his warmth. Credo lifted his arms awkwardly, undecided of where he wanted to place them. He finally rested them over Dante's broad shoulders; his fingers lightly digging into the half-devil's muscular back. Credo jolted when long fingers crept on his bare hips, prompting them to break the kiss.

“Wait.”

“I’ll wait, but I won’t stop,” Dante whispered hotly into his ear, using the opportunity to flick a tongue at his earlobe. “That kiss told me you don’t want me to either.”

Now acutely aware of what was transpiring, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. "I...I've never-" Credo swallowed, embarrassed by his inexperience. "I've never done this before."

"Never kissed another man?" Dante pulled away from trailing soft kisses down his jaw line to lift a pale brow in question.

Credo wiped at the trail of saliva under his chin with the back of his hand. "...This is my first time kissing anyone." He shifted uneasily when those brows rose higher.

_Good job admitting he was right. If he didn't think you're pathetic before, he does now._

"I have a hard time believing that, General. There was no way a first-timer can kiss as good as that."

Credo cleared his throat and looked away in embarrassment. "We’re not discussing this."

Dante chuckled lightly. “I guess you're going to have to shut me up then."

He looked up at the devil hunter's expectant look. Licking his reddened lips, Credo hesitantly pushed himself up to reconnect their lips. Dante's approving moan boosted his confidence and he slowly maneuvered the kiss into a slow yet sensual one to the best of his abilities. When they broke away, Credo felt oddly accomplished to find the half-devil breathless.

"Nope, still don't believe you've never kissed before," Dante breathed out with a teasing laugh. The lightness in his tone was contagious that Credo couldn't help but smile, feeling a jab of pride at the compliment. "I guess we'll find out what other talents you have then."

Credo yelped when the hand on his hip tugged at the towel around his waist. "Dante-!"

"It’s okay." He looked up when Dante cupped his cheek, a soft, reassuring smile stretched on his lips. “I got you.”

He would never believe the man could emit such sincerity and gentleness if he didn’t see it for himself. The look in the devil hunter’s eyes when he said those words told Credo he could trust the man with every inch of his soul.

Credo sucked a shuddering breath. He won’t hurt me. He freed Dante’s wrist from his vice-like grip in a cautious hint of consent. The general squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the towel fell from his waist. Warm lips landed on the side of his thinly-pressed lips and on instinct, Credo turned to bury his face into Dante’s shoulder. His fingers curled around the half-devil’s neck when he felt rough hands slid down his thighs, brushing over the thin material of his boxers. Credo breathed out a soft gasp when the touch ghosted over the junction of his thighs, the gasp turning into a choked yelp when a firm hand gently palmed him.

“A-ah...” Credo curled instinctively when the hand began to slide up and down the clothed bulge. He wasn’t a stranger to physical pleasure, but he never expected having someone else touching him would feel so different than doing it himself. It’s...it’s much more stimulating. Dante didn’t share his familiarity with his own body so having the devil hunter explore him was like rediscovering his erogenous zone. Every touch filled him with a thrill of anticipation simply because he wasn’t in control, so he couldn’t prepare himself before the sensations hit.

“Ngh!” His breath hitched feeling the other man’s fingers traced the lines of his tenting arousal. His thighs jerked when the Dante applied pressure to his grip, sending spikes of warmth under his belly. Credo instinctively tried to close his thighs, but the devil hunter gently pushed him to lie flat on his back. Hot, moist lips returned to devour his lips and this time he didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. The general could tell the kisses started to grow more passionate – more desperate – as the hand quickened its strokes. Credo bucked with a muffled yelp when he was squeezed; the stab of pain heightened his pleasure that he could feel tears blurring eyes. Dante swallowed his whimpers with a sensual kiss, his hand slowing its motion to allow the general some time to regain his bearings before raising the pace again. Credo moaned when the delicious burn from his lower belly spread throughout his entire body.

“D-Dante?” Credo opened his eyes when the devil hunter pulled away. Silver hair brushed his collarbone as the man meticulously mapped the contours of his chest with his lips. He saw a pink tongue lapped at the sweat layering his flushed skin before the man moved to flick the wet muscle over a dusky nipple. His breath hitched when pale eyes looked up to see his reaction as the tongue gently lapped at the sensitive nub. He never knew they could be so sensitive. “Ah! Aah...” Credo let out a shaky breath when Dante planted a sloppy kiss on the hardening flesh and moved to apply the same treatment to the other one. Wet with saliva and raw from friction, they pebbled in the cold air. Satisfied, the devil hunter finally descended down his torso, leaving a trail of faint red and teeth marks all over his quaking chest. Credo whimpered into his fist; the feel of the man’s hot lips on his skin was enough to make his body quake with need. The loud smacks of wet kisses as the half-devil continued his journey down weren’t helping either.

“Credo.” He cracked his eyes open at the sound of his name. Dante was crouched between his trembling legs, watching him. He saw the man’s fingers were hooked under the band of grey boxers, ready to remove the only material covering him. “Watch.”

Credo did as he was told, even when his face was probably glowing red from shame.

The dull grey cloth was pulled down his legs and soon its existence was forgotten.

The general let out a relieved sigh when the suffocating material was gone. However, being fully exposed and spread open, he could feel the half-devil’s eyes roamed over his panting form, drinking in every inch of his bare flesh. His shame returned when he realized Dante was probably comparing their bodies; he was nowhere near the half-devil’s perfection. There was nothing he had that the man could possibly find desirable. Credo reached down to cover himself but Dante stopped him.

“What are you doing?”

He bit his bottom lip. “I don’t want you to look at me.”

“Why?”

“Because I know I’m nothing like you.” Flawed. “My body isn’t as perfect.” _Undesirable._ Credo looked away, feeling thoroughly humiliated after the confession.

“But that’s not fair.” He flinched a little when the half-devil touched his cheek. “You’re selling yourself short, Credo.” Dante countered the general’s bewildered look with a warm smile, his eyes softened in mild regret. “You know, I honestly think you’re the only one who doesn’t realise how gorgeous you are. Why you’re still a virgin with a body like this is beyond me.”

He looked at the devil hunter in disbelief. “You don’t need to lie to make me feel bet-” Dante took his wrist and shoved it under the sheet before he could finish. Credo felt his jaw went slack.

“I’m not lying. If I don’t want you, I won’t have reacted this much,” half-devil said, his voice dropping into a husky tone.

Credo couldn’t to find words to respond to that, his mind was still reeling at what he had just touched. H-how can he remain so calm when he’s already that hard? He jumped when Dante’s long, battle-worn fingers curled around his shaft, reminding him of the very prominent problem between his legs.

“Let’s take care of this.” Dante’s eyes were dark with lust as he began to stroke the flesh in his hand.

“Ah…D-Dante…” Credo threw his head back; he felt feverish. The coarseness of Dante’s hand felt amazingly good on the sensitive flesh. He felt the fingers squeezed around him, reigniting the dormant fire in his loins with each stroke. Perspiration broke on his skin as the air felt a few degrees warmer. The soft, strained whimpers and gasps flowing from his wet lips grew in volume and intensity when blunt nails scratched against the skin of his scrotum. “Ah!” It was the only approval Dante needed to hear before turning his attention to the twin globes. The man skilfully kneaded the heavy sac in his palm while the other hand continued its motion, pumping along the length of his heated flesh with firm, sure strokes.

“Nnghh...ah...d-damn...ah!” Fingers clawing and twisting into the pillow, Credo buried his face into the damp fabric to muffle his cries. He let out a low, keening noise when a thumb rubbed under the swollen tip of his erection, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His hips rocked to the rhythm of Dante’s quickening pace until a steady flow of warm precum dribbled down his throbbing shaft, allowing the hand to glide smoother. Amidst the intense pleasure, the general made the mistake of looking down, and what he saw nearly robbed him of his breath.

Both hands slick and full with the general’s throbbing arousal, Dante lowered his head to lick at the moisture leaking from the swollen tip. He ran his tongue along the underside of the shaft to lap at the bag of skin at the base. His mouth formed into a seductive grin when he realised Credo’s eyes were on him. Keeping the eye contact, Dante swallowed the twitching sac into his mouth, moaning loudly as if he had just tasted the sweetest candy in the world.

_Oh God. Oh **God.**_

Credo squeezed his eyes shut when hot wetness landed on his heaving chest. The burn under his belly lessened gradually after the initial release, simmering along the rapid thump in his chest. Cold air singed his lungs from how harshly he was breathing. For a short moment, the general couldn’t move; his nerves were frayed from the abruptness of his orgasm. Only when strong hands rubbed over his shaking thighs, he could finally muster the energy to move his arms. Credo rested an arm over his eyes, feeling them burn beneath his eyelids.

_What have I done?_

“Credo?”

He blinked the moisture in his eyes away when Dante gently pulled his arm aside. The half-devil looked concerned. “Did I hurt you?”

“...No,” he managed hoarsely after several tries, a tear rolled down his cheek._ I did it to myself._

Even before they met, Credo had learnt that Dante had a wild reputation. The devil hunter wasn’t the kind of person who dwelled on things for too long, and that included his standing in the bedroom. With the skill and confidence Dante displayed in bed, Credo knew the other man’s knowledge was the product of experience. He didn’t know how many men and women had spread themselves open for the half-devil, lured by his handsome face and incredible physique that they didn’t mind being used for one night to be discarded the next day. To the devil hunter, they were faceless and insignificant, useful only to warm his bed on cold, lonely nights.

And like them, Credo knew he was just another random face in Dante’s long list of conquest. _How could I expect to be any different?_

“Don’t give me that bullshit, General.” Dante frowned when he saw the tear. “Talk to me.”

Credo wiped the wet trail with the back of his knuckle. “I’m fine.”

_“Credo.”_

“I’m **fine**,” the general repeated firmly; he wasn’t going to crumble in front of the other man. He at least had that much dignity left. “I’m just...a little inundated.”

Dante narrowed his eyes, trying to find faults in the other man’s words. “...You mean I’ve overstimulated you?”

The auburn-haired man tried to form his face into a scowl amidst the embarrassment. “You don’t have to look so pleased with yourself.”

The half-devil chuckled, the worry creasing his brows easily forgotten. “You would too if you see the mess you’ve made.”

Credo balked when he looked down his body. Strings of cooling white seed were splattered over his stomach up to his chest. His member had softened, resting against his stomach, dormant for the moment. The view was interrupted when a hand tilted his chin up, tearing the general from the sight.

“Don’t be afraid,” Dante murmured as he traced a thumb over the general’s lower lip. “You can always be honest with me, Credo.”

_I can’t. I’ve already fallen for you and I’m afraid saying it will only make me fall deeper._ Credo made a soft noise behind his throat as he watched the devil hunter dove down his chest, peppering the damp skin with painfully light kisses. Instead of continuing his earlier pace, Dante moved far more slowly, taking the time to let the general feel the languid brush of his moist lips on his chest. Credo trembled, unfamiliar with such gentleness that he struggled to swallow the tightness forming in his chest. Pale eyes gazed up at him just as a wet tongue lapped at the string of seed caught on his left nipple. “Dante...” Credo hissed when hot lips clamped over the hardened flesh and pulled on it gently. The sensation was like tiny sparks of electricity that shot down his belly, stirring into a familiar heat that made his hips jerk in pleasure. His eyes were hazy with need as they watched Dante slowly licked down his torso, collecting the speckle of sticky fluid with every flick of his tongue until he reached the source.

“Ahh, D-Dante...ah!” Credo arched breathlessly when the devil hunter devoured him again. His heart was pounding in his ears, deafening him from the harshness of his heaving chest. He had a niggling suspicion that Dante enjoyed the slower pace more than he let on when the devil hunter prolonged his ministrations to wrench harsh, sharp intakes of breath from the general. Credo trembled violently when the devil hunter swirled his tongue around the swollen crown and started to suck; it felt as if the half-devil intended to suck his life out. When the devil hunter finally swallowed the hard flesh into his mouth, Credo felt his resolve crumble. He buried his fingers into Dante’s thick hair as the man continued to descend, watching how his twitching length slowly disappeared between Dante’s swollen lips. The hotness around his shaft seemed to engulf his whole being. The devil hunter stopped only when he reached the tuft of auburn hair at the base of Credo’s erection, humming deep in his chest before starting a slow and sensual rhythm.

“Ah...agh...” Breathing became a difficult task with the silver head bobbed up and down his crotch; the obscene noises from the man’s mouth sent his toes curling on the mattress. He could feel Dante’s rough chin grazed against his tightening balls with each dip, the added stimulation made him curl his blunt fingernails into Dante’s scalp. His hips bucked and rolled to match the bobbing motion, feeling the swollen shaft reached deeper with each thrust. The devil hunter didn’t seem to mind the forceful grip in his hair, allowing Credo to push deeper down his willing throat. “Nngh...Dante...” He pushed the curtain of silver from Dante’s forehead when it obscured his view on the devil hunter’s face.

Dante’s eyes were dark, half-hidden beneath his long lashes. Red streaked over his nose and cheeks, giving his usually fair skin a rosy hue. His face wrinkled in a look of hazy concentration that the general couldn’t help to rub a thumb over the crease over the man’s brows, watching them relaxed from the touch. His eyes followed the line of Dante’s sharp nose to land on swollen lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing organ; they were glistening with a generous coat of saliva and precum. Credo could feel himself close to release when he saw the man’s throat worked to swallow the dribbling saliva while accommodating his intrusion.

_I’m not going to last long if this keeps up._ He shuddered when Dante moaned around him; the vibration and wet smacks of the man’s lips only heightened the delicious heat under his belly. He hasn’t even pleasured himself. Credo bit down his lower lip and forced himself to stop his movements. He eased his grip on the silver hair and allowed his hands to slide down the man’s shoulders. “Nnghh...Dante, s...s-stop...”

Dante pulled away with a loud slurp, leaving a thin string of saliva down his chin. His face lifted to look at the general questioningly. “Something wrong?” he asked, sounding breathless and husky from the labour his throat had endured.

Credo swallowed the saliva forming in his mouth at the sight of the devil hunter looking so flustered. “...I...I’m going to cum.” 

Dante’s face was a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Then cum. I was hoping to catch it right from the source this time.”

Feeling heat creeping up his neck, the general glowered at the other man. “Stop being so crude.”

“Says someone who just put his dick in my mouth,” the devil hunter quipped with a smug grin.

Credo wanted to slug him for that. “I was only concerned that yours will fall off if you keep neglecting it.”

“Oh?” The look Dante gave him was utterly salacious. “Since you’ve mentioned it, let’s give it a little attention.” The devil hunter sat up on his knees and peeled off the sheets pooling around his waist. Credo was fairly certain he was staring when the man’s hands dipped between his legs.

_He’s...impressive. _

It was probably the perks of having devil’s blood. The devil hunter wasn’t grotesquely big, but he easily fell within the sizable department. The shaft was thick, jutting proudly upwards from the rich blood flow. _How is it that he’s not light-headed from blood loss with a beast like that?_ The crown was so swollen with blood that it almost looked bruised. He watched Dante wrapped his fist around the thick shaft and gave it a few, firm pumps before rubbing the pad of his thumb over the tip.

“Ah...fuck...” Dante rocked into his hand with a shuddering moan. He ran his fingers along the full length of his arousal before focusing on the bulbous head. Credo watched the way his long fingers traced at the ridges; moving with such fluidity and grace that he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Fingertips brushed the area where the foreskin met the gland, teasing the skin with an urgency that made the devil hunter’s whole body tremble. The half-devil arched back with something akin of a whimper passing his lips and the sound shot straight into Credo’s growing arousal.

“Credo...” He looked up at the breathy groan and saw the raw desire in the man’s eyes. Dante curled his fist around the base of his erection and rubbed his free hand over his flat stomach, his reddened lips parted in a sultry sigh, “Touch me.”

From Dante’s husky voice, he couldn’t tell if it was a command or a plea. Hesitant, Credo sat up slowly, careful not to add more friction between their bodies. The general could tell the man was already painfully aroused by the erotic display. Swallowing his apprehension, Credo carefully wrapped a fist around the swollen organ; it was hot and heavy in his hand. It pulsed under his palm when he started to stroke, gently working his hand along the thick shaft. After a while, he used both hands to cover the length, doing his best to mimic how the devil hunter had done it. Dante choked out a sharp curse, causing the general to freeze. He looked up at the other male, worried that his inexperience hurt the man.

Dante laughed lightly at his troubled look. “S-sorry...uhh...that wasn’t pain. Go on.”

Letting out a relieved sigh, Credo slowly continued his ministration. He pressed his hand on the base of Dante’s erection and slowly palmed down, watching the half-devil’s eyes slid shut in bliss.

“Mmm...pretty quick at learning, aren’t you?”

The general flushed but kept silent, gently cupping the sac of flesh in his palm. He marvelled how the size and weight felt nice in his hand. Recalling the sensations he felt before, he tried to imitate how the devil hunter stimulated him while using the man’s expression as a guide. Having stroked the shaft hard enough to chaff a normal man, Credo nervously nuzzled against the glistening tip. Precum streaked over his upper lip and he was assaulted by the pungent smell of the other man’s sex. He didn’t know if he could do it; he had never tasted himself, let alone another man.

Dante purred in approval, “Ooohh...that’s good.” Credo felt long fingers raked through his damp hair, massaging his scalp and neck encouragingly as he struggled to swallow pass the swollen tip. It was slick and hot against his tongue, pulsing along the throb of the devil hunter’s heartbeat. He experimentally ran his tongue over the flesh; aside from the hint of salty sweetness aftertaste, it barely tasted like anything. The general cringed when fingers dug under his neck to push his head down, forcing more flesh between his lips. He groaned in protest at the grip but it only made the devil hunter moan in pleasure. Pushing against the man’s hips seemed to do the trick; Dante released his grip and he pulled away, inhaling sharply.

“I can’t,” he stammered, “It’s too much. I’m not-”

“Shh, it’s okay,” the half-devil cooed understandingly, brushing a thumb along his jawline. “You don’t have to take it all in. Use your hands.”

Grateful that Dante wasn’t going to force him into doing what he didn’t want, Credo slowly tried again after he gained more confidence. Encasing the hard shaft with both his fists, he slowly pumped the flesh while wrapping his lips around the crown. He was aware Dante was watching his every move like a hawk; his eyes burning with lust and hunger. Credo felt the devil hunter’s body shivered when he sucked on the sensitive head. He sucked harder, using his tongue to add more pressure before Dante snapped his hips forward without warning. His eyes widened at the hot and thick fluid filling his mouth. He pulled away only to have it shot all over his face. The flesh in his hands continued to twitch until it was done, and Credo blushed feeling it oozed down his face.

_It’s so thick..._

“Fuck...Credo...” He opened his eyes slowly. Dante was flushed and panting hard from his recent release; his hair matted on his damp face while sweat trickled down his heaving chest. His swollen lips slowly curled to form a self-satisfied grin at the sight of the general’s cum-coated face. “So sexy.”

Credo sniffed indignantly, trying to drown his embarrassed flush with a scowl. “Shut up.” He grabbed the sheet to clean his face but Dante pinned him down. Letting out an annoyed grunt, the general struggled under the other man’s strong grip. “Dante, let go before I-” He stilled when something hot and slick brushed against his cheek. The devil hunter meticulously licked the thick fluid off his face, only pulling away when he was clean. Dante smiled at his bewildered stare and Credo could feel his face growing warm. “Uh...thanks,” he offered awkwardly, not really sure what he should say. The hands around his wrists were gone only to reposition on his thighs. Credo paled when he felt a hand slipped lower, tracing down the crease of his perineum and-

“D-don’t!” Dante looked up at his yelp, his brows arching in question. Credo gave him a pleading look. “I’m sorry. I’m not ready.”

Pale eyes softened. “It’s fine.” The devil hunter crawled up to give him a soft peck. “You can take me instead.”

“W-what?” Before Credo could have the meaning sink in, Dante had shifted so he was positioned over the general’s crotch. He blushed hard when the man started to touch himself, moaning softly as he pushed a slick finger inside him. Credo couldn’t tear his eyes from the finger; it slid in and out in a slow, practiced motion before another one joined in, causing the devil hunter to quake with a deep-throated moan. When the third one entered, Dante was already trembling. He thrust them through the puckered muscle desperately; making sure the general got the full view of the finger’s movements. Credo could feel himself growing hard when Dante’s moans intensified. Finally the slick fingers pulled out, leaving the muscle quivering and stretched.

“D-Dante...” Credo bit down his lower lip when the devil hunter slowly sat down, watching the head of his erect shaft pushed against the puckered ring muscle, meeting slight resistance as the muscle clenched and quivered from the intrusion. He reached out to grasp the man’s hips, offering comforting squeezes when Dante groaned in discomfort. When the swollen crown finally slipped into the tight heat, they shared a low, shuddering moan.

_Oh God, it’s so tight._

Credo could only think of the tight heat around him when Dante didn’t stop there, sinking lower until he was seated snugly on the other’s groin. The half-devil let out a dark chuckle as he rolled his hips, pleased to hear the moans streaming from the general’s parted lips. Credo saw Dante’s face loomed over his; his eyes gleamed in the low light.

“Fuck me, Credo,” Dante panted, bouncing lightly, “Fuck me hard and fast.” 

Something broke in his mind at the sound of Dante’s needy whimper. Credo tightened his grip on the man’s hips and bucked up, sending the half-devil on his back with a surprised yelp. He barely let the other man recover before he started to move his hips, pulling out and thrusting back into the tight body. Dante arched with a soft curse, growling in delight at the general’s dominance, a seductive smirk crawling into his handsome face.

“Nnn...oh, yeah...that’s it...”

Credo adjusted his grip on the man’s hips before setting a steady tempo. His hips snapped forward, driving into the devil hunter deeply with each thrust. The sensation was amazing; the way Dante’s walls squeezed around him was unlike the way his mouth felt. It was tighter, with muscles contracting around him from every angle, and the scorching heat of the half-devil’s body. Unobstructed, Dante’s wanton moans were loud, fuelling the heat pooling under his stomach. Credo hastened his thrusts, hearing the moans grew deeper at the change. He paused when Dante let out an unsatisfied grunt, feeling the other man trying to roll himself on his side. The devil hunter rolled on his stomach with his ass raised, throwing the general an inviting grin over his shoulder. 

“Come on, you can reach deeper like this.”

Before meeting the half-devil, Credo never knew sex could be something so fulfilling. He always distanced himself from others, only allowing brief and strictly platonic interactions – just enough to get his job done. He hadn’t held anyone in his arms for a long time that he forgot how it felt like. Even Kyrie had accepted his aloofness when he stopped hugging her five years ago. The turning point of his life; the Order had changed him so much. If he hadn’t joined the Order, would he be more passionate? Would he have known the joys of loving someone sooner?

_Love..._

He watched his hard shaft entered the gaping hole, sinking deep into the well of heat. _Is this love or an empty wish?_ He didn’t know if his feelings were real, or if they existed at all._ Would it be good if they do? When he doesn’t feel the same? It’s enough that this is real,_ he reasoned with himself, rolling his hips and began to thrust, using the heat to burn the emptiness in his chest. 

“Aahh...f-fuck! Credo...mm...ah...aah!” Dante shivered as the general pounded into him mercilessly. “Fuck, you’re...ah! S-so good! _Harder!_”

Credo panted, his hamstring muscles were beginning to hurt from the punishing tempo. He didn’t want to lose himself before Dante reached his orgasm. He lowered himself over Dante’s back and planted a wet kiss on the half-devil’s spine. With the other man distracted, Credo reached down to grasp the man’s aching shaft and began to pump. Dante’s back arched at the double stimulation, his moans turning into desperate and incoherent choking pleas.

“Fuck! Aaahh, f-fuck, Credo! I’m close! Nghh...fucking h-hell! Ah! Credo!”

Sweat trickled down his face when he felt the walls rippled around him. He was near his limit as well. “Uh, D-Dante...I-I’m about to...”

“F-fill me up,” the devil hunter choked out his consent, burying his face into the sheets as his climax closed in. “Ah! Shit...shit! G-gonna cum! Credo, I’m-ohh, **_fuck_**!”

Credo felt hot semen spilled into his hand just as the walls contracted around him, squeezing him so hard it hurt. He drove himself in as deep as he could before emptying himself into the devil hunter with a hoarse cry, the intensity of his orgasm felt like a million stars exploding behind his eyes. He fell forward – boneless and shivering – against Dante’s sweaty back, trying to fill his lungs with air before he pass out. He was vaguely aware the other man shifted, only feeling the transition of lying against slick skin to sprawling on soft fabric. Dante’s handsome face entered his hazy vision and a warm feeling crawled its way into his chest. Credo tried to move his lips – what was he trying to say? – but the devil hunter didn’t allow him the chance, connecting their lips in a slow, gratifying kiss. When they broke apart, Credo felt the sleepiness grew persistent.

“Sleep,” Dante murmured, brushing a kiss on his temple.

Credo obeyed, saying the unvoiced words in his dreams.

* * *

_*scenes from this chapter*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reformatting this is such a hair-pulling work, sorry if I missed any =A=


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simplicity; a life sufficient. Complications; a life journeyed.

_“Credo.”_

_He lifted his face sharply at the call, never not noticing how aged and weary the voice sounded - as if his name had a physical weight to it. Time was a cruel teacher; in exchange for wisdom, it ate away at a man's vitality without care nor remorse. The man before him once fought with the strength of many and barked orders that echoed across the fields, but now he was no more than a shrivelled, frail husk of his former glory. Dark brown eyes clashed with his and he consequently directed his eyes to look past the aged face. He could hold that haunting gaze no more than a few seconds. Venerable or not, those eyes always made him feel uneasy._

_“Your Holiness?”_

_He waited for the man to speak again; his back straight and his shoulders squared in attention but his query were left unanswered. The hollow room felt suffocating in the silence. He wondered if it even reverberated the sound of his own heartbeat. It always unnerved him; having these private meetings in his chamber, as if he had done something unsatisfactory and needed reprimanding – needed reminding - but he learnt to cloak his unease from his countenance. It was the only way he knew how to survive._

_“You know how vital this is.”_

_It was more of a statement rather than a question yet he nodded anyway. His response earned him a warm smile, and the hair behind his neck stood when he saw it widened knowingly._

_“You know what must be done. Do not disappoint me, my boy.”_

* * *

Some say sleep was a form of liberation. With his busy schedule and demanding work, Credo was inclined to agree when he often found solace within the darkness beneath his eyelids. While his rest wasn't always peaceful, the general learnt to relish the few hours of solitude and numbness as best as he could, because there was no way of telling how long he could ignore the world before reality caught up to him.

Credo woke up to the feel of warm sunlight on his bare shoulder. With a soft grunt of annoyance, he buried his face into the pillow. He refused to open his eyes, trying to savour the remnants of sleep still lingering within his system. Discounting the little soreness in his muscles, the general felt light, as if something that weighed him down had disappeared. His ears picked up the sounds of birds and critters outside the window before focusing on the soft, even breathing in front of his face. Confused and a little alarmed, Credo slowly opened his eyes to see a face right in front of his.

_Dante._

For a moment, he stared at the sleeping man blankly before memories from the night before slowly resurfaced.

_He and I...last night..._

Credo couldn't even finish the thought before every vivid detail about their passionate love-making the night before flooded into his mind. His body tingled the more he recalled the way they moved together; how their heated, slick bodies rubbed, arched, and writhed in the dark. If the general was more lucid than he was at the moment, he would probably die from embarrassment right then. Fighting to rein his feelings in, Credo inhaled deeply. The air was humid after a night-long rain, heady with the smell of sweat and sex mixed with the dark, yet not unpleasant, smoky scent of gunpowder and leather. 

_His scent..._

Dante was so close that the general could feel the other's hot breath on his lips. Judging from Dante's deep and even breathing, the man was sound asleep. He didn't even twitch when the general moved his hand to brush hair out of his eyes. Credo took the chance to study the devil hunter up close. There was no denying that the half-devil was good-looking. It was probably more accurate to say that he was one of the most beautiful men Credo had ever met. He couldn't help but wondered how someone with such angelic appearance could have such a dark, powerful legacy. Dante didn’t possess any visible trait of his devil heritage, appearing just like any normal human aside from his bright hair that shone like liquid silver, adapting hues of colours when light fell on it. The way the pale strands fell around his sleeping face made him look deceivingly fragile and vulnerable. Without the deep creases between his pale eyebrows, the devil hunter even appeared younger than his age. Dante had quite long eyelashes for a man; they curved and fanned over his high cheekbones, casting soft shadows in the morning light. Fine hair peppered along the shape of his jaws which, eventually brought the general's attention to his rosy, full lips.

_They were...soft..._

Credo licked his lips. He could still remember the way they felt against his own.

_'I could get used to a wake up kiss like that.'_

Their first kiss at the lake was still fresh in his mind. The kisses they shared afterwards even more so. Credo gingerly touched his lips and was surprised to find that he was smiling.

_You're not a lovesick teenager. Stop acting like one._

He doubted Dante thought much of what transpired last night. It was simply a mean to brave the cold night. Credo knew it wouldn’t do him any good to entertain thoughts about harbouring feelings for the devil hunter. The half-devil wasn't the type to care for a romantic relationship; neither of them was. Both of them were soldiers fighting the same war but he wasn’t sure if they would agree on the same principles. Dante was a mercenary who was used to working alone while he was a soldier serving a community of people who depended on him. When things boiled down to choosing what was more important, Credo knew he would put his family first and he didn’t doubt Dante would do the same. That was why he couldn’t afford to think of last night’s passion as anything more than a mutually beneficial, no-commitment sex.

_It’s easier this way. Being attached will only hurt both of us in the long run._

Credo craned his neck to look at the random details within the room in an attempt to ignore the twinge of hurt in his chest. The pattern of sunlight filtered through the gaps on the wall was an easy enough distraction, but movements in the corner of his eyes drew him back to the devil hunter. He watched the gentle rise and fall of Dante's chest, mentally counting the man's every intake of breath in slight fascination. The devil hunter must had trusted him a lot if he could be this deeply asleep. How long would it be before the half-devil wakes up? Would he stir if Credo touched him?

_“I’m not sure what you’re planning, General, but keep that up and you’ll start my engine.”_

Credo swallowed; he was the one who started it. The stress had probably messed up with his head-no, he wasn’t even thinking. It was freezing and his body was acting on instinct, seeking warmth from the half-devil's warm body. The general couldn't blame Dante for reacting the way he did. What healthy man in his prime _wouldn't?_

_Stop going there._

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, willing the warmth on his cheeks to go away. It was no easy feat when images of the other male moaning underneath him were still playing in his mind. Credo wasn't privy to imaginations when it came about 'sating' his carnal urges, but after last night, it was safe to say the general would be set with a few...interesting ideas. Hesitantly, his eyes followed the dips and curves of muscles and sinew until the trail of fine, pale hair disappeared under a tangle of white sheet. Credo let out a breath of relief seeing their bodies were covered; it was the only thing stopping him from adding more details into his 'imaginations'.

_It's not like last night wasn't very informative-WHY am I entertaining such perverted thoughts still?_

Credo paled when a familiar heat began to flow under his belly.

_You’ve got to be joking._

He was sure every divinity in existence was punishing him for his indecent thoughts. Of all the highly inappropriate times, his body chose that moment to be aroused. Credo tried to distract himself with every unappetising thought he could think of but the damage had been done. Could it be because he deprived himself of release for so long that it refused to yield to his command? He liked to think he had more control than that, yet his body seemed set in proving him wrong. Credo glared down his traitorous body, partly wishing it was an alien appendage he could go without.

_Haven’t you cause enough problem already?_

The auburn-haired general knew he needed to take care of the problem but he risked waking Dante up if he moved too much. Credo wasn't ready to face the half-devil yet, especially in his current situation. Nonetheless, he knew the longer he waited, the harder it would be to ignore the stiffness between his legs. If Credo didn’t allow more space between them then the half-devil would wake up to a very rude prodding against his stomach. The general tried to see if he could slip around the sleeping man unnoticed. With their close proximity, brushing against one another was an accident waiting to happen if he wasn't careful. He was reminded of how ridiculously small the bed was for the two of them when he could barely move without brushing against the sleeping devil hunter. His shoulder grazed the wall and Credo resisted hissing at how cold it felt.

_I need to find my coat._

Credo couldn’t slip out of bed with Dante’s sleeping form blocking his way like a solid wall. Holding his breath, the general slowly twisted his body to lie on his back, taking extra care not to jostle the bed too much. Credo stopped when he heard a soft grunt. He could feel blood drained from his face when he realised his current position made his ‘predicament’ a lot more evident. Thankfully Dante didn’t wake up, and Credo felt as if he had just escaped execution. Heart still pounding rapidly in his chest, he waited for the half-devil’s breath to resume its normal, lengthy rhythm before he dared to move again.

The general let out a silent, victorious sigh when he successfully rolled around to face the wall. Now that he wasn’t in any danger of accidental ‘poking’, he finally allowed himself to relax.

As relaxed as he could be, anyway. Movements produced friction, and friction was the last thing he needed in his current situation. When his arousal didn’t seem keen on diminishing by itself, Credo knew he had to deal with it physically. With a grudging acceptance, the general carefully wrapped his fingers around the hardening organ, inwardly berating his own brittle self-control. Credo gave it a slow, calculating pump to see how far he could go without waking his sleeping companion. When Dante’s breathing rhythm remained consistent, the general began to work himself into a quick tempo, wanting it to be done as soon as possible. It didn’t take long for Credo to feel the pressure built up. The room suddenly felt a few degrees warmer; he felt sweat rolled down his heaving chest. The general had to bury his face into the pillow to muffle his moans when pleasure racked up his body; his motions becoming erratic and desperate.

_A…almost...t-there… Nngh!_

Credo was sure his heart jumped out of his chest when a warm hand languidly draped over his hip, successfully halting his jerky movements. The general couldn’t even begin to find a single word that accurately described his situation when callous fingers brushed over the damp skin of his hip.

_Don’t wake up…_

“Mmmh…mornin’,” said the gruff voice behind his head, still heavily laced with sleep. Credo swallowed tightly.

_Go back to sleep._

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t fond of him that morning. Credo felt the other male shuffled closer; he could feel hot breath blew behind his neck. Hard chest pressed against his back as the devil hunter leaned in to whisper into his ear, “Did you sleep well?”

Credo relaxed a tiny bit, realising the half-devil didn't seem to notice his little predicament. “Somewhat,” he provided, wondering if he didn’t drag the conversation too long Dante would fall back to sleep.

Dante hummed sleepily at the input. “That's good. So...”

The general hesitantly glanced over his shoulder, “'So'?”

“Aren't you gonna turn around and give me a kiss?”

Credo accidentally squeezed himself in surprise at the feel of warm lips against the back of his neck. He almost forgot how prickly Dante’s jaw felt against his skin. He desperately needs to shave. Biting back a pained hiss, he gingerly relaxed his grip. “I'll have to pass on that, if you don't mind.” Now that the devil hunter was awake, perhaps it was his chance to get away and deal with his problem in privacy. There was still a chance to salvage the situation. “Since you're awake, would you mind if you-”

“Yes, I would.”

Credo actually craned his neck to give the man an incredulous look. “I haven't finish my sentence.”

“No need,” Dante replied with a slight yawn, sounding more awake than before, “Knowing you, you'll only want me to let you go.”

“And that's a bad thing...how?”

“Because that would have me move, and I don't feel like moving anywhere. It’s nice and cosy right here.”

Credo let out a surprised squeak when Dante curled an arm around his chest to give him a light squeeze. Blood rushed up his face when he felt something hard pressed against the cleft of his buttocks. The half-devil may still be slightly drowsy from sleep but that part of him was very much 'awake'. The general held his breath when Dante curiously pawed down his torso.

“Ooh…what have you been up to?” The devil hunter chuckled in a way that made Credo’s skin tingled. “Did you have a naughty dream about me, General?”

Credo cleared his throat with an air of defiance, “Don’t be absurd. Why would-uah! Mind where you are touching!” He made a grab at the hand diving down his crotch but Dante was quicker.

“I'll take that as a ‘yes’.” The auburn-haired general cursed at how Dante’s chest rumbled in glee against his back. His mouth watered when long fingers shamelessly traced along his hard shaft—gentle yet purposeful, as if gauging his threshold—and Credo could feel his defences crumbling. The devil hunter’s voice sounded heady when he spoke again; his breath hot and heavy against the general’s ear, “There’s no need to keep it from me, Credo. It’s not like we haven’t done worse.”

“U-unlike you, I have a sense of propriety-ah!” Credo yelped when Dante curled his fist and started to stroke him in earnest.

“Propriety from the guy sporting a boner?” Credo couldn’t help but moan when a thumb circled around his leaking tip. He was already near the edge but the half-devil’s talented hand knew how to push him even further. His grip on Dante’s wrist wavered and the man took this as an approval, chuckling as he brushed his lips under the general’s ear. “I admire your restraint, Credo. It’s what makes you so adorable.” The general threw his head back, barely stifling his cries when Dante planted wet kisses over his neck and shoulder with a gentleness unlike the impatience of his hand. He swore the half-devil was trying to drive him crazy.

“Ah!” His breath hitched when sharp teeth grazed his neck, sending shots of pleasure down his spine.

Dante chuckled deeply when he felt the reaction was resonated between the general’s legs. “You like that?”

_Bastard._ “I…ah! Ah! I’m…I’m…ah…ngh!” With the half-devil's mouth latched on his neck, Credo could feel his control dwindling. His hips rocked into Dante's pumping hand on their own accord, consequently rubbing back against the man's crotch. The general vaguely noted how Dante’s breath grew laboured at the friction as something hard and heated ground against the upper back of his thigh. Credo flushed when he felt it slipped between his thighs, sliding dangerously closer to his nether region with each thrust. 

Dante’s voice was dark and husky with lust as he nipped the other’s earlobe, “Not much on propriety now, are we, General?”

_I’ll show you i**mpropriety**._

Tethering at the edge of his control, Credo dug his nails into the half-devil’s arm and bucked. He almost lost the ability to breathe when his orgasm hit; his mouth opened in a voiceless cry as he spilled into Dante's fist without warning. Credo felt the other man jerked in surprise at the sudden release but was unable to pull away due to the general’s tight clutch around his wrist. Spent, Credo closed his eyes and rested his sweaty forehead against the pillow, struggling to breathe. His muscles were burning and his nerves tingled from the exertion.

“Hey, that’s not fair.” He had the urge to laugh when Dante sounded like a petulant child being refused his favourite dessert. “Don’t tell me you’re done?”

“Sorry,” still slightly breathless, Credo released his grip with a tired chuckle. “I guess this means you’re on your own.” He was well aware Dante was quite worked up from the foreplay. Feeling rather victorious at gaining the upper hand, he wished he had the energy to smirk in the other’s face. Serves you right.

Admitting defeat, the devil hunter laughed. “Tch, you’re cold.” He lifted his soiled hand, making a contemplative noise at the back of his throat as he inspected the mess. “You can help me out, you know.”

“How? I can barely move, thanks to you.”

“Oh, I can think of a few ways…” Credo stiffened at the feel of wet fingers traced down his tailbone. His jaws went slack when the fingers drew lazy circles on his plump cheeks, occasionally worming their way into the crack between the mounds of flesh before resuming a languid pattern on his skin.

“The real question is…” Dante’s hot breath tickled his ear; the man sounded far sultrier than he should be allowed to.

“Are you game, General?”

Credo felt his jaw slackened in disbelief when the teasing lilt ignited a twinge of interest in his loins.

_Hadn’t I just-_

Any form of coherent thinking left him as heat crawled up his face feeling Dante’s hand pawed at a cheek and gave the fleshy mound a firm squeeze. What the man just suggested was taking things a little further outside of his comfort zone. The general knew his fear didn’t actually stem from the idea of sex itself – although it did worry him to an extent—but it was more about yielding his control. He hated the feeling of helplessness, of being subjected to another’s mercy. Credo wanted to raise an objection but at the same time he wondered if he was just being overly paranoid. He might not know Dante for long but last night was a good indicator that he had nothing to fear. Between the both of them, the devil hunter was stronger and far more experienced. If he wanted, he could easily overpower the general yet he went to great lengths to make it enjoyable for both of them. If that didn’t say Credo could put his trust in the half-devil, then what would?

“Earth to Credo?” He blinked when Dante tapped his forehead with a finger. “Feel like sharing what’s in that noggin’ of yours?”

“I…” Dante raised an expectant eyebrow at him and Credo didn’t know what he was planning to say. He cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling his cheeks warmed at the half-devil’s full attention. “I-it’s just…”

“Hey.” He looked up to see the devil hunter giving him a reassuring smile. “No rush.”

His reaction last night must had left an impression. Although Credo knew the man was currently grappling with his own urges, Dante’s face remained calm. The general had expected to be ridiculed for his reluctance but those pale blue eyes held nothing but gentleness and acceptance. If Credo was to adamantly refuse the man, he was certain that Dante would respect his wishes.

Licking his dry lips, Credo forced his voice to work, “Um…”

“Hmm?” Dante tilted his head in question, sending wisps of his hair down his forehead until they brushed over the bridge of his nose.

“What…” _This is embarrassing._ Credo wished he was anywhere but there.

“…What would you have me do?”

* * *

In retrospect, Credo wasn’t really sure he fully agreed to his own decision. He was tempted to blame his pride and bravado for the position he was in. And libido, he mentally added, suspecting it to be the major culprit since it had acquired an affinity of betraying him. Credo felt dread slowly seeped its way into his gut when the slick fingers worked their ways into a private part of him he didn’t want to think about.

_Will it hurt? It probably will. I should have I thought this through._

He stiffened when the fingers touched his sphincter but they didn’t push through. They circled around the muscle gently, inevitably smearing the cooling stickiness over the area. Credo felt the devil hunter shifted against his back, using his knee to push the general’s leg apart to gain a better access to his goal, inadvertently reminding the general of the man’s hardened organ when it brushed against the inside of his thigh. He wondered if Dante could hear how hard his heart was hammering in his chest because his ears were ringing.

“Easy. You’re too tense.” Dante’s sudden voice made him jump. Moist lips dragged over his shoulder in a trail of lazy kisses. “If you don’t ease up, I can’t put it in.”

_Put ‘it’ in? How can something of that size- I doubt it’ll fit even if I- Stop it, you’re panicking._ “S-sorry.”

“Relax.” Dante’s eyes were twinkling playfully, as if he knew just what was playing in the general’s mind. “You’re in good hands.”

Credo gave him a critical look. “You’re being witty at a time like this-ah!”

“Just trying to loosen you up,” the half-devil quipped with a light chuckle. “Helps, doesn’t it?”

Unable to contend the man’s words, Credo decided to focus on the hot mouth latched on his neck when Dante started to push a slick finger through the barrier of flesh. The intrusion wasn’t at all painful as he initially thought it would be—it just felt strange—so the auburn–haired general allowed his body to relax. He blinked blankly when the finger wriggled inside him, feeling quite confused as to why it was said to be pleasurable. When the second finger pushed in, he grunted at the slight sting of being stretched, but the fingers quickly fixed the problem when they started to scissor in and out. Gradually the pain was forgotten and he was able to relax again. Credo flushed when the fingers pushed deeper, rubbing against his walls as if searching for something. He has really long fingers. The general didn’t anticipate the sudden fire shooting throughout his senses when the fingers curled.

“Aah! Dante!” He pawed for the other man in alarm, eyes wide and frantic. “Wh…what was that? W-what did you just do?” 

“You mean this?” Credo yelped when the same sensation shot up his spine when the fingers brushed against the same spot. He flushed when the chest behind him rumbled in amusement at his reaction. “Never tried having this spot strummed before, huh?” Credo could feel the devil hunter grinned against his neck. “Then I better show you how it's done.”

He managed to stop himself from screaming when the fingers rubbed against the pocket of nerves again. While Credo had a general knowledge about anatomy and bodily functions, he had never tried prostate stimulation before. He certainly didn’t expect it to feel so good. It was hard to stop himself from pushing against those thrusting fingers. When they continued to stimulate the gland without mercy, Credo had to bury his face into the pillow to muffle his desperate moans; every inch of his body was on fire. He barely noticed the slick tongue lapping on his sweaty skin when blood rushed to his groin. Having recently experienced an orgasm, the general couldn’t believe how quickly his arousal stirred to life from just a little stimulation.

“I think that does it.” The fingers retracted to circle around his tender opening. Something slick, blunt, and far thicker than fingers pressed against the muscle and Credo tensed involuntarily. “Shh…relax, babe. Don’t clench.” Fingers gently parted the muscles and the heavy, thick organ gently pushed against the puckered ring. It slipped off its mark a few times—sliding between his crack and prodding against his thigh clumsily, smearing precum over his skin—before the bulbous head settled against his sphincter. His eyes watered when the thick head continued to push through the resisting muscle; it stretched him far more than the fingers.

_Stop, it won’t **fit**. It won’t-_

“Nnghh…” Credo heard Dante’s groan echoed his own when the head finally slipped through. Considering the devil hunter’s girth, he half-expected it would need to tear him open in order to fit. Having the swollen head in him was uncomfortable since even the tiniest movements like breathing reminded him of the alien presence. Unfamiliar with the sensation, his muscles clamped around the intruder in an attempt to push it out, but only succeeded to pull it further in. Credo shuddered in anticipation when the head brushed close to his prostate, making him forget about the initial discomfort.

_Why isn't he moving?_

He ran his tongue over his dry lips at remembering how good it felt having his prostate gland stroked. His cheeks reddened; even thinking about it made him anxious. Credo stopped squirming when a large hand gently rested on his hips.

“Easy on the grip, General.” He couldn’t see Dante’s face in his current position but Credo suspected the devil hunter was trying not to laugh. “I know it’s a bit of a tight fit but if you keep squeezing, you’re going to cut me off.” The general found satisfaction hearing the man choked a soft curse when he decided to test his muscle control. 

“Ooohh, you’re killing me here, Credo.”

Credo blew a stray strand off his damp forehead to give the other man a glare. “I will do a lot worse if you don’t get on with it.” He could tell the half-devil was surprised when pale eyes widened at his response. When the surprise melted from his face, Dante leaned in to whisper into the general’s ear.

“You have no idea just how hot you are right now, General.”

Credo felt the hand on his hip slowly migrated to his thigh. While he wouldn’t deny the way it stroked up and down his leg was – if not arousing – pleasant, he wished it would drop its teasing game and took care of the erect organ between his legs. He moaned in surprise when Dante bucked his hips forward, driving half of his thick length inside the general in a swift thrust.

“Hn, fuck...” Dante moaned between his soft pants. “You feel so good inside, Credo.”

Credo blushed at the compliment, twisting his fingers in the sheets when the organ pulled out only to push its way back inside, gaining momentum and depth with each entry. His cheeks flared as he could intimately feel the shaft as it moved within his bowels; its shape, contours, the direction it tended to slide, and even its temperature. Judging by the ease it was moving, Credo had to thank the fact that the half-devil benefited from a generous amount of precum. He hardly think the lubrication from the man’s fingers was enough coating for the full penetration.

_Wait, where is his hand?_

Only then Credo realised Dante had slipped a hand under his thigh to lift his leg higher. Before the general could open his mouth in protest, the half-devil snapped his hips forward, propelling himself deep within the hot canal with a satisfied grunt. Credo let out an explosive moan when it drove right into his prostate, sending bolts of pleasure throughout his trembling limbs.

“Jackpot.” Dante chuckled darkly at the general's reaction; his voice thick with pride and satisfaction. He wrapped his arm around the auburn-haired man's writhing body, locking his movements so he could direct his thrusts into the sensitive gland with brutal precision. The devil hunter chuckled when his captive tried to struggle. “What’s the matter? Thought you were…ahh…going to kill me if I don’t…ngh…do this?” panted the half-devil with a smirk in his voice, punctuating the last word with an exceptionally hard thrust.

“Aah! Ah!” Credo’s jaw hung open as another moan tore through his lips, killing any form of response he had. He doubted he was able to form a coherent sentence anyway; his mind was barely lucid with the continued assault against his prostate. The sound of their sweaty skin smacking against one another grew louder with the intensity of Dante’s thrusts. Was this what the half-devil felt last night? To have something shoved inside him, having it caress the core of his desire, burning away the grasp of his sensibility, and drowning him in a pool of nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure? 

_It’s…too much. It’s driving me insane._

His head thick with lust, Credo barely objected when a hand guided his own to wrap around his dripping arousal. Muscle memory drove him into pumping the length while the hand set the pace. He whimpered in protest when it squeezed his hand to a halt, feeling he had been denied release for too long. The hand pulled away and he wanted to resume his motion before the thick shaft inside him pulled out as well.

“…Wh…what?” His mind struggled to grasp a semblance of cognizance at the abrupt loss of contact. Credo looked at the half-devil in confusion, he didn’t understand why Dante withdrew. “Dante?”

“I said, lie on your back,” Dante repeated, his pale blue eyes glinted with mischief as he smiled. “You’re so lush when you’re in heat. How adorable.”

Credo didn’t know whether it was a compliment or a taunt, but his mind was too muddled to think so he decided it didn’t matter. His stomach twitched remembering the urgent matter at hand, or more specifically, in his hand. Fingers still wrapped around his shaft, he gave it a firm tug, discreetly watching the other man’s reaction to his stifled moans from beneath his dark lashes. The general wondered if his ears were tricking him when he detected a deep, guttural growl in Dante’s quickening breath.

“Such a fucking tease,” the half-devil muttered, yet the grin on his lips showed that he didn’t mind the show.

Credo made a displeased noise in the back of his throat when he was pushed to his back. His protests died when Dante crawled up until they were face to face, the expanse of his body cast a shadow over him. He tried to stop himself but his eyes greedily drank up the sight of the half-devil’s bare form in the morning light. His eyes settled at the juncture between the man’s powerful thighs. The sight made him swallow in apprehension.

_Was it that big before?_

A soft cough broke him out of his musing. Credo felt his face steadily grew warm when he realised Dante was observing him with an arched brow.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, waggling his brows smugly.

“S-shut up.” Credo cursed the way his cheeks warming at the sound of Dante’s rich laughter. _Damn him. He knows full well how perfect he is._

Dante lowered himself until their breaths mingled, the teasing smirk still stretched on his lips. Credo had the urge to swallow when the half-devil's chest pressed against his. “Honestly General, I’m a little worried. That look just now tells me that you’re either planning to eat me or castrate me.”

It was impossible to sound collected when he could practically feel his face burned in embarrassment. “Don’t worry, my thoughts of harm never involve that kind of pain.” Credo tried not to squirm when the devil hunter closed their gap until their lips brushed each other’s.

“I wouldn’t mind being devoured by this cute mouth.”

If the general had anything clever to counter that remark, it dissolved the moment those lips pressed against his. They were hot and wet, generously moistened from planting kisses over his neck. A slick appendage pushed between his lips and Credo moaned when it hungrily explored his mouth’s cavity. The kiss began slow and innocent at first but it didn’t take long before it became raw and desperate, their heightened pleasure turned it into a clash for dominance. Credo hissed when sharp teeth nipped at his lower lip. With a growl, he swiftly returned the favour. By the time they broke apart, their lips were swollen red and Credo could taste a hint of metallic on his tongue. He watched the small cut on Dante’s lower lip healed within seconds, barely leaving a mark. Even though their hearts were still racing from the shared kiss, Credo felt oddly tranquil just feeling the other man’s body against his. Dante didn't seem keen on moving either. They stayed like that for a while; Dante propped on his elbows to support his weight so he wasn’t putting much weight on Credo’s chest while the general had his arm wrapped around the half-devil’s waist in a relaxed embrace. He opened his eyes drowsily – when did he close them? – at the feel of soft lips on the side of his mouth. Dante’s handsome face greeted him, permanently wearing that charming smile of his. His fingers curled in reflex when the man shifted to sit between his open legs. Strong hands slipped under his waist to lift his hips and Credo instinctively braced his heels against the mattress when Dante started to push.

The re-entry was easier this time being he had been properly stretched, but Credo still felt his breath caught in his throat at the sensation of being filled. Once adequately sheathed, Dante started to rock his hips in shallow thrusts so the auburn-haired man could get acclimate to the intrusion. Credo moaned softly when the familiar tingle of pleasure danced under his skin. His head fell back into the pillow when a hand found his arousal and started to stroke him along the languid thrusts. His stomach tightened; he was close to release. “Ahh…D-Dante…I’m-” His eyes widened when the thick length inside him pushed even deeper. He wasn’t aware the man still had nearly the length of a fist left out, nor that he could accommodate that much inside him. The general gasped when it continued to push into him that he started to feel like his organs were pushed against his ribs.

“Ahh…all in,” Dante puffed out a relieved sigh when he was buried to the hilt. “…You okay, Credo?”

The general jerked at the question, tearing his eyes from the point they were intimately joined to look at the half-devil. He swore he could see the imprint of the man’s erection poking under his stomach. “I’m a-alright,” he breathed out nervously as his chest tightened with worry.

_I’ll lose it once he moves._

Credo felt Dante pulled out, his body trembling in anticipation. Halfway out, the devil hunter threw him a meaningful grin right before slamming back in. The unexpected force threw him off guard that his surprised cry got stuck in his throat. His voice returned when Dante rammed into him the second time, forcing a hoarse scream out of his lungs when the thrust hit his prostate. Credo absentmindedly heard the man hummed in appreciation at his vocal capability while he resumed the slow yet brutal pace. Before he could adjust to the punishing rhythm, Dante wrapped his fist around his throbbing erection and it was the last thing Credo felt before the world exploded behind his eyelids.

* * *

_“Hey, Credo.”_

_He didn't bother lifting his eyes from the document he was reading. He knew the boy would eventually leave if he didn't get the response he wanted._

_“Credo!”_

_“Don't shout. I'm not deaf, Nero.” He glared and said boy smiled sheepishly in embarrassment. “What do you want?”_

_“I was wondering when-”_

_“No.”_

_The youth stared at him in disbelief, his jaw hanging comically at being cut off so abruptly. “What do you mean 'no'? You haven't heard what I was going to say.”_

_“You're asking me when you will be reinstated and I'm telling you never,” he said smoothly, pinching the edge of the document when Nero's protests rose in volume._

_“That's not fair! I need to fight something, Credo. I swear if I have to stay home one more day, I'll put a bullet in my head.”_

_“I highly doubt it can pierce your thick skull,” muttered the general under his breath. “Your sword is still in repair. Your arm is still in a sling. How do you intend to fight with such large handicaps?”_

_The youth patted at the holster around his thigh. “Don't worry, I still got this beauty to keep me company.”_

_Credo frowned in disdain at the gun. While he wasn't as stickler as the other knights on the use of firearms, he wasn't a fan of the noise it made. He didn't really mind Nero using it as long as the boy knew how to keep the complaints to the bare minimum._

_“So what do you say? I'm good to go?”_

_Credo pressed his lips thin. He was tempted to crush the hopeful look in Nero's young face but decided having the boy pester him every day wasn't worth both their times. “Report to me every morning on where you're headed. You are not to step more than fifteen hundred yards from the populated areas unaccompanied. If you conform to that distance you will have no problem making it home for lunch.”_

_“Oh, come on-”_

_“If you don't agree with my terms then you can sit your ass back home,” he interjected with disinterest, investing in an effort to fish for a decent pen. Why did he keep misplacing them? Credo could sense the youth struggled against the refusal dancing at the tip of his tongue. Sighing, he dropped the document. “Look, I'm only looking out for you. Like it or not, you're family, and you're the one I trust to take care of Kyrie when I'm not there to protect her.” He motioned at the sling with a nod. “I don't want this to happen again.”_

_Nero tried to maintain his casual attitude even as his cheek gained a rosy hue at the older man’s reasoning. “Pshh, as if you’re going anywhere.”_

_“**N**_ ** _ero_ ** _.”_

_“Tch, fine. But I can't guarantee my 'escort' won't bail on me. There's a reason I always work alone.”_

_Credo could feel the tell-tale of a headache starting in his temples. “Try not to make me regret this, Nero.”_

_The youth pinched his thumb and pointer finger with a cheeky grin before he spun on his heels. Stopping by the door, Nero turned to look at him with a genuine smile._

_“Thanks, Credo.”_

_He responded with a noncommittal grunt, picking the document to resume his reading._

_“Credo?”_

_The general closed his eyes with an insufferable groan. “What?”_

_“Sorry. I didn't think you'd pass out.”_

_...Pass out?_

* * *

Credo woke up with a start, his chest heaving so hoarsely in its desperation to suck air into his lungs that he didn't understand why he couldn't move his wrists nor what the voice said at the beginning. He blinked rapidly until his eyes could focus on the concerned face in front of him. His lips moved uselessly in an attempt to form a word but the voice gently cooed at him in understanding.

“Shh...easy now. Don't talk. Just focus on breathing.”

His head hurt in his effort to fix his sight on the other man so he decided to follow the advice. Credo allowed his head to fall back into the damp pillow, his eyes staring blankly at the mouldy ceiling while the throb in his head lessened. A hand gently rubbed up and down his side and the general found the touch to be soothing. Feeling his rapid pulse had greatly subsided, he tried to focus on the face again. Dante observed his face with an uncharacteristic seriousness – his pale eyes seemed to bore into his soul – before he broke into an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. Guess I got a little carried away,” he admitted with a hint of embarrassment. “For a second there I thought you were a goner.”

“W…what happened?” His forehead creased, still feeling a bit disoriented. _Did I have a dream?_

“You passed out,” the half-devil explained without fanfare while he dug a finger into his ear. “You came so hard my ears hurt. You really know how to scream, General. If we’re in a more populated area, you’d be screaming down the whole two blocks,” he said with a simper, enjoying the look of abject horror on Credo’s face at the information. “Though I have to admit, I would probably pass out too if I creamed that hard.” He shivered when Dante rubbed his palm in the splotch of sticky white on his stomach, smearing the fluid over his fingers. Knowing the general was watching, the half-devil stuck the cum-coated coated fingers between his lips, moaning as he sucked each finger clean. “Mmm…_delicious._”

Credo wondered if it was possible to die from a self-conjured heart attack. His ears burned in embarrassment when the half-devil collected more of his seed between his fingers as if it was a delectable treat. A slick digit swiped over his lower lip, smearing the thick fluid over the swollen flesh. His thighs jerked when Dante dove to capture his lips in a hungry kiss, moaning when he realised the man was still deeply buried inside him. Credo arched when Dante slowly rolled his hips, shivering in pleasure at the way the man's hard length slid in and out of his throbbing passage. It was a different kind of pleasure; a slow burn of ember unlike the burst of flame from his previous experience. Credo choked out a soft whine when their pressed bodies trapped his arousal between their stomachs. While it had considerably softened, the organ was still quite sensitive. He gasped when the head brushed against Dante's hard abdomen, making his muscles instinctively clenched around the half-devil.

“Oh, fuck...yeah...”

Dante broke their lip lock to bury his face against the general's neck, purring at the delicious heat pulsing around him. Sweat rolled his bowed back each time he drove his hip flush against the other's, grunting with effort as each plunge brought him closer to completion. Credo moaned when the devil hunter quickened his thrusts, causing his muscles to spasm and squeeze around the stiff organ in reaction. Strong hands wrapped around his waist and easily lifted him off the mattress. The general gasped when he was pulled into the other man's lap, sinking Dante balls deep inside him that his insides throbbed trying to adjust to the new position. The half-devil purred throatily when Credo continued to contract around him, keeping his arms around the general's trembling form while his lips traced the contours of the auburn man's sweaty torso.

“Ah! Nghh!” Credo let out a strangled moan when hot tongue flicked over his left nipple. He had to wrap his arms around Dante's shoulders to steady himself when the man clamped his lips around the rosy bud. The general saw the hungry look in Dante's pale irises when the half-devil smirked against his sweaty chest.

“How about you give me a nice ride, hmm?”

Blushing at the suggestion, Credo nervously squirmed in his seat before he slowly started to bounce in the man's lap. His face burned when he realised Dante was observing his expression; his eyes darkening with each time the general slammed down with a shaky moan. Feeling the length inside him throbbed in near release made his own arousal twitch. Credo bit his lower lip and rolled his hips in a circular motion, his shame eased when it earned him a loud, husky moan of pleasure.

“A-ah!” 

His eyes widened in surprise when Dante unexpectedly dragged him into a bruising kiss. He didn't have the time to react when the half-devil bucked up—swallowing his strangled cries at the hard plunge—before a torrent of warmth shot into his bowels. Blunt fingers gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, locking him into place while the half-devil pumped him full with semen. Credo felt feverish. He could feel Dante's torso quaked in relief as the muscles under his belly contracted to empty the last of his release.

_G-God…_

“Shit, Credo...” The devil hunter panted against Credo’s chest, his damp hair matted against his forehead. “I can't hold it in when you look so damn _fuckable_.”

He couldn’t believe how turned on he was by the feel of Dante’s muscles tightening and rippling during orgasm. Credo squirmed in discomfort when he felt cum leaking out. He couldn't draw his legs close with Dante between his legs. His cheeks flared when it trickled down his thigh.

_It's coming out._

A chaste kiss on his chest broke him out of his thoughts. Credo felt a hand grasped the back of his neck before he was pulled into a languid kiss. He closed his eyes when Dante carefully laid him down to his back, never breaking their lip lock until they were comfortably lying on the mattress. Still breathless from the kiss, Credo barely made a noise when the man pulled himself out. The feeling of warm cum sloshing out of his quivering muscle made him squirm in shame. He made a sound of protest behind his throat when Dante pushed his knees against his chest, sending the flow to trickle along the shape of his ass before the push of a thick, hot flesh against his wet sphincter made him stare at the other man.

“H-how are you still hard?” True enough, Dante was sporting a full erection.

Dante countered his gaping stare with a nonchalant shrug. “Some say I have a pretty impressive stamina.” His smile twisted into a wicked grin that Credo began to feel a little alarmed. “But you’re just so irresistible that I can’t help wanting to ravish you senseless.”

“What…? I-ahh!”

Credo let out a strangled whimper when the half-devil easily breached through his stretched opening. He tried to make a sense of the situation—how did he end up in this position? _…Oh, wait—_before his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Dante’s handsome face slipping into a look of unadulterated bliss the moment he was fully sheathed. The look didn’t last when the half-devil looked down over the man beneath him, and at that moment Credo wondered why he felt like a prey lying at the mercy of a dangerous predator. 

* * *

“A-ah! Dan…Dante! Ah! O-oh, God-ahh!”

His jaw hung open to spill loud, mostly unintelligible moans at the pace Dante slammed into him. Credo gritted his teeth; the half-devil didn’t waste time on foreplay since he had been generously lubricated and stretched from their earlier sessions, his body barely resisting the man’s penetrating shaft as it pounded into him with wild abandon. The bed creaked noisily with each powerful thrust, driving the auburn-haired man hard into the headboard. Credo wondered if his shoulders would end up sporting a bruised vertical imprint from the repeated impact.

_The fact that it remains intact till now is outrageous. M…my pelvis is going to shatter if he keeps this up._

The fleeting thought was easily erased when a thrust slammed particularly hard that the general felt shaken to the core. “Aaahh…” He gulped the cold air into his searing lungs during the brief pause, feeling Dante pushed his trembling legs apart wider before he resumed with a more controlled rhythm. Credo felt sharp teeth nipped at his jaw before it grazed down a prominent vein on his neck. Dante’s breath was laboured and hot against his throat, occasionally turning into sultry grunts from the continuous toil. Friction from the relentless punishment made his insides clench, sending surges of pleasure rippling through their bodies, wrenching a unison of low, heated moans from their lips. Credo buried his face into the crook of Dante’s neck, trying to hide the fact that he was getting aroused by the intensity of the man’s assault. He was amazed he could still feel his lower half with how forcefully the man had been drilling into him.

“Nghh!”

He jerked at the deep rumble of amusement bubbling inside the half-devil’s chest. Dante’s fingers curled around his neglected erection, having noticed his reawakened libido when it slapped against his abdomen. Credo almost lost his grip when the devil hunter fisted him to match the tempo of his rocking hips, chanting the man’s name in a series of pleading sobs until his voice grew hoarse.

“Credo…”

Messy, silver hair hung over Dante’s half-lidded eyes, forming a white halo over his head as light caught on the pale strands. If Credo eyes weren’t blurred with tears, he would probably see the red ring glowing around the half-devil’s pale irises. 

_“Come.”_

Credo threw his head back as his climax hit so hard that his teeth clattered. Fortunately, it wasn’t enough to render him unconscious like last time. The devil hunter used his momentary distraction to pull out and mount his chest. Credo hissed in pain when long fingers roughly raked into his hair, grasping the russet locks to bring him face to face with Dante’s impressive erection; it looked ready to burst. With his fingers wrapped tightly around the jutting organ, Dante worked his fist quickly along the swollen shaft, panting soft curses under his breath. His cheeks burned when the devil hunter came; shooting streams of hot, pearly cum into his face. Credo squeezed his eyes shut when he felt it splattered across his cheeks and caught on his hair. He kept his eyes closed even after the devil hunter’s weight lifted off his chest, feeling drained to the bones. His whole body was sore; it felt like he had been thrown into a wall repeatedly. When his heart had slowed into a calmer pace, Credo slowly cracked his eyes open to see that Dante had rolled into the small space between him and the wall; the position he first awoke in. True to his reputation, the man was barely out of breath, and he wore the largest, pleased grin Credo had ever seen.

_That look._ His brows knotted into a frown. _He’s gloating._

Dante laid on his side, using his elbow to prop his head up. He seemed unaffected by the severity of the general’s glower. “Mmm…don’t look at me like that. You’re sexy when you glare.” He made a motion to wave a finger around Credo’s face. 

“Especially when you’re covered with my cum.”

Credo narrowed his eyes as he wiped his burning cheeks with the back of his hand. He made a noise of disgust at the sticky mess in his hair. “I’m filthy.”

“Want me to clean you up like last time?” Dante offered with a cheeky smile.

Credo scrunched his nose in disdain. “You're disgusting.”

“And you're hot.”

“I’m taking a shower-” He stopped when a thick arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him down the mattress. “Dante, let go.”

“No pillow talk?” Dante asked, his lips jutting into a slight pout. “You fell asleep before we could have one last time.”

Credo felt his jaw tightened when blood rose to his cheeks at the reminder. “I hardly think you need further compliment on your sexual prowess if that’s what you’re after.” He grunted when Dante pushed him to his back with a palm against his chest.

“Oh, but General, I do love hearing about how I fucked you so hard, you screamed my name before you passed out,” pointed out the devil hunter smugly, his eyes twinkling in mirth when Credo’s blush darkened. “But being the generous guy I am, I could also settle for a kiss.”

Sighing in resignation, Credo relaxed against the pillow. He tried to ignore his flaring cheeks when Dante hummed happily at his consent, wasting no time to claim his reward. Credo moaned softly when their tongues duelled for dominance but Dante easily came out the victor, swallowing the general’s complaints in a wet, bruising kiss. When they broke away, both their lips were swollen and he could see a string of saliva hanging down Dante’s chin.

“Satisfied now?” Credo asked breathlessly, his breath ragged from the kiss. Dante answered him by releasing his hold, allowing the general to push himself up. Credo hissed when sitting put pressure on his sore bottom, and this didn’t escape the devil hunter’s notice.

“You sure you don’t want to lie down for a while?”

Credo growled warningly and the devil hunter thankfully took the hint. He bit down the sting with a grunt and swung his heavy legs off the edge of the bed. When his feet touched the cold floor, Credo resisted the urge to crawl back into the warm bed.

_If I stay here who knows how many times we’ll do it._

With that in mind, he slowly put his feet down, wriggling his toes as they adjusted to the temperature. His legs were still a bit shaky but he was confident they could hold his weight. He pushed to stand up slowly – mindful of how sore his lower half was – before he froze at the feeling of something sticky leaking down his legs. He spun around at the sound of a low, rakish whistle.

“Lovely view, General.” Dante winked. “Now I see why white looks good on you.”

Flushing in embarrassment, Credo quickly covered his crotch with his hands. He scanned the room for something he could use to cover himself. _Where’s the towel?_

“Looking for this?” the devil hunter asked, and Credo stared at the familiar white towel in his hand.

“Give it to me.”

Dante coughed a laugh, “Whoa, hey. I did. Plenty times just now.”

Credo fought against the urge to strangle the man. “Damn it, Dante! Give me that towel or I swear-” He grabbed the fabric while the man was busy laughing but Dante’s grip surprisingly didn’t relent.

“Manners, Credo. Say ‘please’.”

The general growled in agitation. “Fuck you.”

“Please do.”

Credo stopped pulling, stunned by what he just heard. Dante’s lips were pulled into a lazy, flirtatious smile as if the general’s aggression didn’t bother him in the least. Head tilted, a curtain of lush silver draped over his pale eyes, which shone with a playful light as they studied the general’s slack expression. Credo found himself lost in those silvery eyes, not realizing the man had dragged him into bed by the towel in his grip. He snapped out of his reverie when Dante’s hot breath licked at his ear.

“Your towel, General.”

Credo jerked back as if he was slapped, jumping out of the bed when he realised where he was. Dante looked more amused when he hastily wrapped the towel around his waist. “Why do you even bother, anyway? It’s not like I haven’t seen it all.” A brief pause. “Or tapped everything there is to be tapped."

Struggling to remain calm, the general ignored his burning face to glare at the other man. “Back at my place, there is this thing called ‘modesty’. You should try it,” he shot flatly, hoping that was the last time the half-devil would open his mouth.

“Ooh, back with that sass, huh?” Dante chuckled. “Cute.”

Credo figured if he stuck around, he would never hear the end of the man’s incessant blather. He marched into the bathroom, slamming the door for added effect to show the half-devil that he was in no mood for games. Once in the solitary of the small room, he pressed his hands on each sides of the sink, grumbling curses under his breath.

_That smug, overconfident, good-looking bastard! Saying things like that so suddenly… Just who does he think he is?_

Recalling the half-devil’s grin made his cheeks grow hotter. He half-wanted to march back out there and give that man a piece of his mind.

_Imagine the look on his face if I take him up on the offer…_

His temper seemed to deflate when he stared into the mirror. Credo could feel his shoulder slumped, his agitation melted off into shame. Seeing his own, haggard reflection in the broken glass, he realised the reality he had been avoiding.

_What do you think you’re doing **here**?_

A shade of horror wormed itself into his heart. He had forgotten who he was. Time spent with Dante had shown him a part of life he had never thought of experiencing. Dante had brought out more emotions within him in two days more than anyone could in years. With the devil hunter, he neither have to keep his feelings in check nor was he expected to cater to anyone’s expectations. The freedom he had these two days was something he rarely felt—and he would always remember it—but as nice as it was, he knew it would need to end. He had obligations none other could shoulder, and he had a family who were waiting for him. He should have been trying to escape since the moment he was captured yet he stayed, lulled by the comfort of Dante’s kind acceptance and his own traitorous feelings for the man.

_I betrayed my own because of my selfish desires._

The Order would find him. Whether they would know of his lapse of judgement, he wasn’t certain, but his own sense of duty would always punish him for it. 

Sighing tiredly, Credo twisted the knob to start the shower, watching the pipe shake and gurgle in an effort to spew out a steady spray of clean water. He held out his palm to test the temperature, cringing at the frosty bite. A cold shower would probably be good for him. He needed the wakeup call. After discarding the towel, Credo stepped under the cold spray. He let out a soft yelp when his body instantly seized up at how cold it was. Determined to persevere, the general wrapped his arms around his middle, his teeth clattering as he stood there, letting the shower wash down the sweat and sex off his body. His hair had stuck to the sides of his face when Credo vaguely heard the door creaked. The shower was cut off abruptly and a pair of arms wrapped around his shivering shoulders, turning him to meet Dante’s concerned gaze.

“Are you trying to catch pneumonia?” The devil hunter frowned. “I heard you cry out.”

Credo closed his lips to muffle his rattling teeth. He tried to push the other man away but Dante’s grip wouldn’t budge. Inhaling deeply, he tried to brush the man’s concern away.

“I-I’m fine. It’s just w-water.” His teeth were clattering too much for it to sound convincing but Credo didn’t have the capacity to care. He looked down at his feet, letting his soaked hair cover his face so he could escape the man’s gaze but Dante stubbornly combed it back and cupped his cheeks in his hands, forcing him to look into those pale blue eyes.

_His hands are warm…_

“Is that it?”

_Why? Why do you look at me with those eyes?_

He wondered what the man saw in his eyes that made those piercing gaze dim into a gentle gleam.

_Pity?_

“You’re a shit liar.” Dante face eased into a soft smile. “Either way, who knows how long the shower’s going to last. Better not risk it.” Credo heard the sound of the shower starting again but Dante had changed their position so he took the brunt of the cold spray. The half-devil’s warm body helped lessen the bite of cold and Credo felt himself relaxing in the man’s arms.

“Better?”

The general looked away with a scoff, his shivering lessened. “You’re just making excuses to touch me.”

The half-devil chuckled lightly. “Well, it’s a plus, but I’m not kidding about the water supply.”

Regardless the reason, it was a welcomed change. Wrapping his arms around the other man, Credo returned the embrace. He rested his cheek against Dante’s collarbone, feeling the man buried his face on top of his head. There was something intimate and calming about that moment that if he closed his eyes, he could feel the sound of their hearts beating in harmony.

_This is the last time._

Credo tightened his hold as the cold water felt burning in his eyes.

_The last time I’ll let myself drown in you._

He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the rough sex or the disappointment at his own failure that drained the energy out of him. The comfort of being in Dante’s strong arms wasn’t helping either. He was barely awake when his legs gave out under him, feeling the arms around him tightened in alarm before his consciousness faded.

* * *

The soft knock on the door forced him to leave the comfort of his dreamless sleep. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Credo wondered why Dante needed to knock on the door when he was the one with the key.

_…Dante?_

When Credo opened his eyes, he expected to see the mouldy wooden ceiling of the cabin. Instead, he was met with a very clean, white ceiling so unfamiliar that he had to blink a few times in order to believe it was real. Alarmed, the general pushed himself up. The first thing he noticed was the large bed he woke up in. The room was modestly equipped with modern necessities that reminded him of a fairly affordable motel in Fortuna.

_Am I back in Fortuna? Where’s Dante?_

The knock on the door reminded him of his visitor. Shoving the sheet off his legs, he paused to stare at the unfamiliar black slacks and red shirt he was wearing. Did Dante dress him into them? He twisted the knob and swung the door open. “Dante, where-”

“Oh, good morning, sir.”

His words died in his throat when instead of the devil hunter, an unfamiliar young woman stood at the door. She was dressed in a simple uniform, offering the surprised general a conditioned smile as she motioned towards a cart at her side. “I’m here to deliver your breakfast. Your clothes have also been cleaned.”

_What is going on?_

He cautiously opened the door wider for the women to push the cart in. When she was turning to leave, he decided to surrender to his burning curiosity. “Excuse me, would you mind me asking…miss?” The woman stopped to give him her attention. “Did you, by chance, know of a man? He’s tall, has pale hair and blue eyes.” And constantly wears an infuriatingly charming smile.

Her brown eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, that gentleman? He left last night after he checked you in. He already paid for everything so you can stay as long as you like.” Credo noted her curious look and arched his eyebrow when she blushed. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to intrude, but I really think you shouldn’t do something that reckless,” she babbled, her cheeks tinged pink at the general’s attention.

He was getting even more confused. “What?”

“Oh, you didn’t remember?” She nodded firmly, as if confirming with something she decided on, before throwing a smile at the perplexed general. “Your friend said you went into the woods alone and fell down a cliff. It’s a miracle you’re not seriously injured.”

_Dante came up with that cover?_

Credo threw a glance around the room before he noted his boots and sword by the wall. He turned back to the young woman’s expecting gaze and nodded, “You’ve been a great help. Thank you.”

She smiled happily. “No problem at all. If you need anything, our brochures are on the table.”

After closing the door, Credo went to check on the cart. Ignoring the tray of still-warm breakfast, he lifted his uniform in examination. It was cleaned and pressed with great care that he didn’t see a speck of dust or wrinkle on the fabric. Amazed, he carefully laid them on the bed, counting the belts and buttons it came with before his eyes caught sight of a folded white paper on the bedside table. Curious, the general picked it up and found the message addressed to him in a messy scrawl.

_‘Credo,_

_Sorry I can’t stay until you wake up. I hope you’re not mad at me. Do you like the room? I made sure not to use your name so your knight buddies won’t bother you. At least not so soon. Does it count as a date since I kind of dropped you to your room and bought you breakfast? Oh, I dressed you up in my spare clothes, hope you don’t mind. You can keep them, they look good on you. You look good in anything and nothing, I might say~’_

_“That perverted…” Credo rubbed his temples, waiting for his blush to subside. His eyes traced the following scrawl, frowning as he tried to decipher the man’s horrid writing._

_‘You haven’t said anything but I know something’s bugging you. You have this sad, shameful look like a misbehaved puppy. Hopefully the next time we meet, you won’t look so sad._

_ps. I hope your men won’t mind me dropping by for my coat and sword. I’ll try not to bruise everyone too badly._

_pps. Call me.’ _

Credo could almost see the devil hunter’s goofy smile at the end of the note. “I look like a sad puppy, huh? …What an imprudent association…” Even until the end, Dante allowed him to keep his dark secrets. He didn’t know if the devil hunter believed him or just didn’t care. The general sat down on the bed and stared out of the window. With the note, he accepted that his ‘vacation’ had ended and his life would be returning to its normal, mildly uncomplicated routine of a knight. He would need to figure how to explain his absence to the Order. He expected to be grilled for information about his encounter with the devil hunter.

“That idiot.” Credo flicked the folded note open, snorting in amusement at the scribbled numbers at the bottom. “He miswrote his own number.”

* * *

_*scenes from this chapter*_

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**[END]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done. I hope the comics are formatted right. This is a very old work, from 2014-2015-ish I think? It was first posted on tumblr but I left that ghost town...*shrugs* Oh well, hope you enjoyed it.


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